The Fox's Net
by Aleithria
Summary: When dragon's breath and magic's might meet on the silver plane, the Once and Future King will hold the sword of evil's bane. When the screams of the dying invade Merlin's mind, something is stirring, and something is unearthed. [Reveal]
1. Their Prophecies

Hello all, I'm Ria. This is by far not my first fanfiction, but as this is starting off a new chapter of my writing life, I wanted to start fresh. If you have a random desperate need (insert heavy sarcasm here) to read my old writing, my old penname is SuiMegami. This is, however, my first Merlin fanfiction.

I don't own Merlin and I hope you guys enjoy!

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The scroll was ancient and tied together with a faded golden ribbon. As Arthur carefully rolled the scroll open, a small bit of parchment fell to the floor. He picked it up and set it to the side, deciding to try to decipher the faded scroll first. The lettering was obviously penned by a master; the handwriting was artful and beautiful. To the sides there were illustrations of animals, colors once vibrant and alive now faded. Arthur began to read.

_There was once a fox, a hawk and a tiger. The tiger was the lord over the forest where the three lived, but he was a wicked lord. He gorged himself on the animals of his forest with no thought for the balance of nature. And wherever the tiger went, his friend the hawk wasn't far behind._

_The fox saw the tiger and his beautiful coat and he was possessed with desire for the tiger's fur. But each time he tried to take the tiger's coat, the hawk would foil his plans and he would fail._

_One day, whilst puzzling over his predicament, the fox came across an eagle._

_"What troubles you?" asked the eagle._

_"The lord tiger has such a beautiful coat and mine is so plain. I want his coat but each time I try to take it for my own, his friend the hawk thwarts me. How will I ever make that coat mine?" lamented the fox._

_The eagle mused, "Hawks are clever creatures. They can outwit even one as cunning as yourself. But I would be glad to help you in your mission, Fox. That hawk has denied my friends and I many a meal. We have prepared a net with which to catch that troublesome hawk; let us help you. After all, the tiger is powerful, yes, but you should easily outwit him."_

Arthur read the story two or three times, but could make little sense of it nor the lack of a proper ending. He glanced to the side and picked up the small bit of paper. The handwriting on this one was less impressive, but the words struck a chord inside Arthur's very being.

_When dragon's breath_

_And magic's might_

_Meet on the silver plane_

_The Once and Future King will hold_

_The sword of evil's bane_

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__I hop you all liked and I will try to upload sometime in the middle of the week generally to give everyone a dose of Merlin to get us through the weeks between episodes. Lol.

Hope I talk to you guys soon!


	2. His Research

Hey all. I wanted to get this chapter up quickly since the last one was so short. Hope you guys enjoyed my little fable. I hope by the end of the story it will make sense. :) First of all, reviewer responses!

**Reviewer Responses**

CaptainOzone: I'm glad you liked it! I love your Merlin fics and I'm glad you've taken an interest in mine! :)

Funus Nex: Mmmmmaaaaaaybeeeee

Healed535: Thanks. :) I was very proud of my fable, and excited about the poem. I am normally complete rubbish at poetry.

shadow visor: Thanks! Hopefully I can hold your attention.

Ash9: Oh there are several points through the story that Arthur's mind will be completely blown.

servant123: It reminds you of C.S Lewis...? *squeeeee* Thank you!

Alright, I don't own Merlin and here we go!

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Merlin coughed heavily and waved at the dust that assaulted his senses as he stepped into the vaults. The dungeon-like area of the castle brought a mix of feelings rushing to his mind each time he entered it. On one hand, it was the incarnation of Camelot's fear and hatred of magic. Hundreds of books, items, and scrolls- each one priceless to a magic-user- were all quarantined away from the people as though they feared infection. The vaults were considered a place of darkness where the devices of the evil of the world were stored and locked safely away where they could no longer harm anyone.

On the other hand, the entire area absolutely hummed with magic. It was invigorating. Though not all of it was friendly, it was all familiar. Each time Merlin's foot hit that last step he the power enveloped him, like slipping into a soothing bath. Like these items, he too was quarantined; his true self locked in for his own safety. But coming down here was like raising his head above the surface of the water and sucking in a breath of badly needed air... even if it was a musty breath.

Arthur lit the torches around the main room and then shoved his into Merlin's hands. He heaved a sigh and looked around as though calculating a strategy. The area looked as though it had once been tediously organized and cleaned, but since then had fallen into chaos, with things being moved and searched without being returned to their original state. Along one wall there hung a frame covered by a cloth, underlined by a rather large series of paintings that leaned in stacks against the wall. In the back there stood a large and simple cupboard, whose shelves were decorated with charms and gems of all kinds. Along the wall opposite the paintings was a bookshelf that was sparsely populated with leather-bound tomes, and on the floor at its side there was a box that was overflowing with loose parchment and old scrolls.

"What are you looking for again?" Merlin asked, glancing around as Arthur bent to examine the scrolls.

"No matter how many times you ask that, the answer is still, 'none of your business'," growled Arthur, not looking up at his manservant.

Merlin puffed his cheeks out and sighed, letting his eyes wander the shelves of mystical items. "Does it have to do with all the secret trips you've been making to the library?"

There was a distinct 'thud' as Arthur started slightly and slammed his head on the shelf above the box. "I've what?" he demanded, a strange tightness in his tone.

Merlin gave him a knowing look. "Don't worry. I figure with how secret you're being about it you didn't want anyone to know. I haven't told anyone." Merlin waved his hand as he stopped in front of the covered frame that hung on the wall. He swung his head around to give Arthur a playful look. "Afraid someone will see you trying to get smarter? Cause you know, once you try to fix it, you're admitting you're a complete cabbage-head."

Arthur stood still for a moment, the confusion on his face replaced by annoyance. A smirk slowly overtook his lips and he folded his arms. "Alright, Merlin. Tell me why you've been fainting like a girl for the past two weeks and I'll tell you what I'm doing in the library."

Merlin clammed up. He hated to see the smug look of victory on Arthur's face, but he couldn't very well tell him the reasons for his fainting spells. How was he to explain that his mind was being assaulted by screams of the dying and tortured? Over and over, without any warning, his mind would be violently assaulted and eventually overloaded by the voices. He had suspected them to be druids, but on the nights that he rode out of the city in secret, he had found no ruined camps, no source of the death that was playing out so vividly in his mind.

The voices would not respond to his thoughts as he tried to speak to them, comfort them, anything. Instead, it was as though their fear- raw and instinctive- was reaching and crying out for anyone to listen. There were the cries of men, women and children; some pleading for mercy, and others raging at their attackers. Merlin was helpless to do anything. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to rush to help, and yet he was forced to sit still and simply listen.

After a few moments of silence, Arthur nodded. "Yeah I thought not." He returned to his task. "You really should talk to Gaius about that. The sooner you start falling over _after_ I hit you the better."

Merlin didn't acknowledge that Arthur had even spoken. He stared at the covered frame. The magic coming from it didn't feel particularly friendly, but Merlin felt drawn to it all the same. He grasped the rough fabric and flipped the corner up a bit, just enough to see the far right side of what it covered. The edges at first appeared plain. But as Merlin studied the worn wood, he recognized the rough scratching of the druid tongue. Inside the frame was held a mirror. It was one of fine craft, far above the quality of the ordinary frame that held it. Merlin stared at his reflection for a long moment, as though this were the first time he'd ever seen himself. There was no doubt that this was a powerful magic item; it was as though the Merlin staring back at him was different from the Merlins he came across in other mirrors.

So absorbed was he in the mirror that he didn't hear Arthur's cry of discovery as he pulled a scroll from the pile and stood. Seeing Merlin so enthralled, Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbed the cloth, and pulled it back over the mirror. "You look pretty today, Merlin?" he demanded with a small smirk on his lips.

Merlin shook his head, snapping out of his trance as Arthur took the torch from him and headed up the stone steps. With one backwards glance at the covered mirror, Merlin followed.

The rest of Merlin's day was fairly Arthur-free. The king was whisked off to meetings with the council (which Merlin was all-too-happy to avoid) whist Merlin was at Gaius' disposal. His afternoon and evening were consumed by helping his mentor brew drafts and collecting a rather sizable batch of herbs. After readying the king and queen's chambers for bed (for which only the latter was present) Gaius handed him a slip of paper and asked him to retrieve a book from the library.

The library was dark save for several lit candles on Geoffrey's desk, though the normally ever-present librarian was nowhere around. Merlin leaned this way and that, checking all the nearby aisles for a sign of the man. However, all he saw was a dim glow from the other side of the large room.

Though he really had no reason to, Merlin walked as quietly as he could manage through the aisles of books until he rounded a corner and spotted Geoffrey bent over a desk that was piled high with musty books and faded scrolls. Sitting at the desk was none other than Arthur, both of them completely engrossed in whatever it was that the librarian seemed to be helping him with. The conversation was quiet enough that Merlin couldn't make it out as though they feared discovery. After a moment, Arthur pointed at something and Geoffrey headed toward the back of the library, disappearing into one of the dark aisles. Arthur continued pouring over the scrolls, moving papers about, and Merlin approached with enough noise that, under normal circumstances, would have alerted the king. though At the moment, he seemed too focused to notice. Merlin bent over the desk, straining his eyes to make out what it was Arthur was looking at. He didn't see what he expected, though in honesty he didn't know what he _had_ expected.

The scroll was covered in beautiful calligraphy, but not in the common tongue. To Merlin's surprise, the scroll was written in the druidic language. There were several pieces of parchment loose about the desk that looked like several attempts to translate the text. The books surrounding him all seemed to concern druid culture and language.

"Learning a second language?"

Merlin barely missed being slapped upside the head as in his surprise, the king's hand swung out quick as a snake strike. The manservant chuckled slightly at his reaction and took a step back before turning his head sideways to get a better view of the literature beneath the king's hands.

"What are you doing here, Merlin?" Arthur demanded.

"Picking up a book for Gaius," answered Merlin, still examining what of the papers he could see.

"Right," crooned Arthur, rolling his eyes and leaning heavily on one of his arms. "You weren't snooping at all. Gaius just happened to ask for a-!"

Merlin cut him off by holding up the small piece of parchment with the name of the book scrawled on it. Arthur stared at it for a moment then heaved a sigh of defeat. Merlin set the paper down on the desk and grabbed a nearby stool, plopping down across from the blonde. "Seriously Arthur… what are you doing?"

Arthur eyed him for a moment before looking back down at his papers and muttering, "Researching."

"Researching druids?" Merlin asked slowly.

The concept of Arthur researching anything on his own seemed a little bizarre, but that the object was a community of magical people was even stranger. Arthur looked up at his servant after a few minutes of feeling the man's stare of disbelief boring into the back of his head and found himself just a little offended.

"What?" cried the king.

Merlin smirked a little and held back a chuckled. "Oh nothing sire. I just always figured you did research like you did everything else... You know... by bashing your head against it until it works."

"Don't confuse my methods with yours, Merlin." A long silence followed. Merlin continued to stare at his king until the blond finally sighed and spoke. "My father did a lot of research into druid lore and literature- what little they had- to try to predict their moves. He feared they were plotting against him. It seems he came across something of import and looked into it."

Arthur was about to continue but Geoffrey suddenly reappeared, brandishing an old leather-bound volume. "Here it is." He stopped when he saw Merlin sitting at the desk. Merlin offered nothing but a wave and Geoffrey looked to Arthur as though asking permission. Arthur shrugged and took the book from him. Geoffrey pointed at it. "Our knowledge of the druidic language is limited, but hopefully this will help." Arthur nodded to him and the man shuffled off back to his desk.

As Arthur began to flip through the book, Merlin eyed him. "I thought you always believed that the druids were peaceful. Why are you looking into your father's research of their plots?"

"I do believe they are peaceful. I am looking into what my father was researching," answered Arthur. He flipped a few pages of the book and began scrawling something down on a separate piece of paper. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and what's that?" asked Merlin, craning his neck to try to see what Arthur had opened the book to.

"Emrys."

Merlin sat back on the stool and his voice caught in the back of his throat. The name sounded so foreign coming from Arthur's mouth; like it didn't belong there. Merlin's stomach erupted into butterflies, but he gulped down his fear and kept a straight face.

"What's an Emrys?" he asked stupidly.

Arthur seemed reluctant to answer but after a moment he sighed and said quietly, "It's a sorcerer."

Merlin's eyes widened. The only time the name ever came up was in relation to the druids. That Arthur had found enough to confirm that Emrys was not only a person, but also a sorcerer surprised him.

"You're researching a sorcerer?" he asked as though expecting it to be a joke.

Arthur gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes once again glued to the parchments laid haphazardly about his work-area. Once again he seemed to feel Merlin's stare after a few moments and sighed, looking up at him. He released the scroll he had been translating and interlocked his fingers, leaning on his elbows. "It... has to do with something Morgana said the last time I saw her." Merlin cocked his head to one side. "She said, 'not even Emrys can save you.'"

"Why would you bother looking into something Morgana said?" Merlin asked, his mind going strangely numb as his emotions attempted to decipher how he should react to this news.

"I wouldn't have concerned myself with it... except immediately after that she attempted to use magic and couldn't." Merlin almost smacked himself. He had hoped the king wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but it seemed the horse was destined to bite the servant instead. Arthur leaned back in his chair. "It made me think about a lot of things... Battle has always been the one thing I have understood above all else. And yet, over the past several years, there are... inconsistencies. Things that don't completely add up... like Morgana suddenly being unable to use her magic."

"Oh... and what does this have to do with a sorcerer?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"I asked Geoffrey if he had ever heard the name Emrys. He knew it was a druidic name and that my father had once gathered literature about the druids in search of something. Though there wasn't much literature or information to be had, he confirmed that Emrys was the name of a sorcerer in druidic stories and legends."

"Stories...? So he isn't real?" Merlin tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but he didn't think he did it very well.

Arthur shrugged. "Hard to say. Morgana spoke of him- or her- as though she had met him. And as far as I know, we don't have a way to block magical abilities." He stared at the desk, but his eyes were far away, as though he were trying to look right through the unorganized mess of parchment. "But the idea of a sorcerer that works against evil... it's hard to get my head around it."

There was an awkward silence that followed as Arthur continued his contemplation. Merlin could feel his heart begin to race as his mind finally made itself up and fear gripped him. He stood quickly, nearly knocking the stool off its legs and Arthur looked up with wide blue eyes. Merlin grabbed the small bit of parchment off the table and held it up.

"Well good luck with that. I should get Gaius' book," he gave a weak dopey grin and left. It did not escape Arthur's notice that the servant failed to collect any such book as he did.

"Idiot," he muttered.

Merlin burst out of the library, startling the two guards at the door. He didn't acknowledge them as he turned the corner into a large empty hallway. Once he was out of the guard's eye-line he leaned against the wall and resisted the urge to slide down to the floor.

Desperately his mind attempted to reason with him. There was no way that documentation existed that would lead an Emrys-seeker to him... was there? Not that Merlin knew a lot about druidic literature, but most information about the tribes were passed down by oral stories within them, as opposed to recording them on paper. He did know that. And only the druids seemed able to recognize him on sight, so he shouldn't have anything to worry about, right?

And yet Arthur's research seemed to inch the king ever closer to the wall Merlin had built around his secrets. He had long sought to keep the name Emrys from reaching the king's ears, but now that it had, was his wall about to be breached? The image of Arthur looking up from his work, betrayal and hate in his eyes, and pointing an accusing finger at him sent a fresh wave of butterflies into his stomach. But Agravaine and Morgana's attempt to find him had failed even though they had actively sought him out, so what chance had Arthur to succeed?

This thin line of reasoning did little to settle Merlin's nerves. After catching his breath Merlin pushed off the wall and began to trek back to the physician's quarters, a trek that started as a walk and eventually evolved into a full-out dash as his panic got the better of him.

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Hope you enjoyed! See you later!


	3. His Fear

Fast update! *ninja sounds*

I figured that it would take me a week to get chapters done, but I decided that as long as the inspiration is kicking me in the pants might as well update. Posting as I write! I imagine the writing will slow down at least a little as time passes.

**Reviewer Responses**

Mediatrix: Glad it was good. You're right about the summary. I added to it. :) Thanks for the heads-up.

CaptainOzone: You should be intrigued by that mirror. XD And thank you! My writing style isn't as descriptive as yours. I look at yours a lot of the time and wish I could write that way. Lol. Thank you so much!

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Thank you! I remember when I first thought of the story, it was only going to be the poem. And then the fable plot bunny attacked me and forced me to put it in. Glad I did though. :)

Funus Nex: :D Indeed!

Healed535: Can't tell yooooou. :3

shadow visor: I know, rite? Merlin was as surprised to see Arthur actually researching something as you were.

Ash9: For me, I've always found it strange that with all the talk of Emrys being involved in the destiny of Albion, neither Uther or Arthur ever heard the name. Morgana finally blurted it out, and it seemed to go in one of Arthur's ears and out the other lol.

servant123: Thank you! I'm glad you're excited! The hardest thing about this story is getting the panic right... because there is a lot of it! LOL

I don't own Merlin and I hope you enjoy!

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Gaius jumped and nearly poured a draft all over his hand as his ward threw the doors open and then whirled around to slam them shut again.

"Are you trying to kill me, boy?" Gaius demanded. His initial irritation of seeing Merlin returning empty-handed was quickly replaced by concern at the fear that had overtaken the boy's face. "Merlin, what's wrong?"

The warlock stared at the floor and muttered something under his breath.

Gaius stood and walked a little closer. "Merlin?"

Merlin met Gaius' eyes. "Arthur's researching Emrys," he repeated. "That's what he's been going to the library for. Morgana mentioned the name the last time we faced her and... he started looking into it."

Gaius' eyes darkened. "Oh dear." He thought for a moment. "Well as far as I know, he will never find _you_ through recorded lore. Still... his interest is troubling. You will have to keep an eye on his progress, Merlin; steer him away if he gets too close.

Merlin meandered over to their dining table and dropped heavily into his seat. Gaius watched him and then slid into the seat across from him, studying his expressions. The warlock seemed star-struck; sitting in his place with his arms hanging listlessly at his sides and his blue eyes glued to a particular spot on the rough wood of the table. Emotions dances across his eyes, no one staying for more than a second as his mind tried to sort through his feelings. Finally, a mix of resignation and cautious hope won out on his face and he looked up at his mentor.

"Would it... Would it be so bad?" he asked. When he received no answer he continued, "If he found out about Emrys, not about me." He looked down at his fingers, which picked at themselves in anxiety. "The druids consider Emrys to be something of a... savior, don't they?"

Merlin had never considered himself and Emrys as the same person. He couldn't quite connect the two in his head; he never had. Though the druids called him Emrys, he could never associate himself with the mythical figure that was proclaimed in the prophecies Kilgharrah mentioned.

Prehaps one day I will grow into the name, he figured, as though one day he would simply reach a point and become Emrys like crossing the border into another kingdom.

When he looked back at Gaius,the look on his face exhibited traits of fear and confusion. "I suppose they do," he answered slowly.

"Then would it be so bad?" he repeated. The sad smile that overcame his lips nearly broke Gaius' heart, as though the boy were reaching out for something to give him hope; groping in the darkness for some small bit of light to cling to. "For Arthur to find information about a sorcerer that fights _for _him and not against him?" he continued.

"Maybe not," answered Gaius, bobbing his head back and forth. "But even if we did know exactly what is written in those scrolls, there's no way of knowing how Arthur will interpret it."

Merlin's smile hope remained in his eyes but the reality of Gaius' words settled in. Arthur may not have been as blinded by rage as his father, but a benevolent use of magic certainly wasn't what Arthur's mind initially tended toward.

"It's hard enough hiding when Arthur isn't looking for me," he grumbled.

"Keep in mind that he is looking for Emrys, not you. Not even Morgana and Agravaine could connect the two of you." After a moment, Gaius stopped the nervous fidgeting of Merlin's hands by taking them into one of his own. "Merlin, go see Kilgharrah. Maybe he can shed some light on this."

After a pause, Merlin offered a weak smile and nodded. He headed out into the forest in a daze, as though he barely noticed the effort it took to sneak past the guards (had he used magic?). The land was oddly quiet; even the birdsong was subdued as though the world around him were bracing itself for something. As he made his way out of earshot of the guards, Merlin found himself wishing for more noise if only to distract from the chaos in his mind. There was a feeling of inevitability that threatened to crush him. It was as though he were rolling down a steep hill, unable to stop or slow himself. He was unaware of what awaited him at the bottom. There was a slim chance he would roll harmlessly into a cushion of hay, but there was also a chance that he would go flying off the edge of a cliff.

He was having more and more trouble differentiating between his emotions and his magic. Both tossed and turned restlessly inside him. He was turning into a dam, doing his best to hold his emotions at bay; the former so no outside parties would come snooping for his secrets and the latter to keep those outside parties safe. But the minute he stepped out of the guards' range of hearing, he opened the dam and let his call to Kilgharrah rip from his throat. He screamed louder than was necessary, but he felt such a release that it left him panting and caused the plants at his feet to burst into bloom. As the silent hum in the air died down, he felt a small glimmer of hope work its way into his mind as though there was now room for it.

He straightened and adopted a leisurely pace toward the large clearing. The cold night chilled him and the wind seemed to blow right through his thin frame. He hugged his jacket tighter around him and stared at the dirt below his feet as he walked. His pace was slow enough that Kilgharrah was just landing as he arrived. The normal smile that greeted Merlin when the dragon saw him seemed somewhat absent. Merlin offered a small bow and the dragon returned it.

"You look troubled, and I could feel the tempest in your soul as you called me," the dragon observed. "What's wrong?"

Merlin crossed his arms and began meandering. "Arthur is researching Emrys," he blurted.

The dragon nodded as though something suddenly made sense. "I wondered when the young Pendragon would continue his father's research."

"Why was Uther researching Emrys?" asked Merlin, looking up at the creature.

"With all the druid camps he raided and destroyed, did you think it possible he would never come across the name?" asked the dragon with a mild chuckle.

Merlin chuckled quietly along, but his face soon became solemn and his heartbeat quickened. There was a slight quaver in his voice as he asked, "Is it time? For Arthur to find out about me?"

The dragon shook his massive head weakly. "It is impossible to say." There was a faint glow of pride that appeared in the dragon's large golden eyes as he spoke. "But I have long felt that the time for all to see your good work is close at hand."

Merlin smiled a little and hugged himself as a shiver ran down his spine. "It scares me," he admitted. His smile faded again. "Something is stirring." The pride in Kilgharrah's eyes turned to a solemness that matched Merlin's. "It's like... all of magic is screaming."

"I, too, have felt it. Something buried is about to be unearthed. You must be vigilant, Merlin." His large head lowered to look directly into the warlock's eyes. "You have heard the cries of the dying as I have," he said softly.

Merlin nodded. "They're druids, aren't they?" It was less a question and more a statement.

"Yes, someone is attacking and destroying druid camps to the north," answered the dragon. "I know not why."

"Can't you stop them?" There was a pleading in Merlin's tone that caused Kilgharrah's eyes to soften.

The dragon's head pulled away and he assumed a regal posture, looking down at Merlin with resolution. "Aithusa and I must remain a secret if our species is to survive. If this is a war between the tribes, then we have no place to interfere."

"War between tribes?" repeated the servant. "Why would the druids fight amongst themselves?"

"As with any people, the druids are diverse. There are many tribes with beliefs that conflict. There are even a small few who would harm Camelot if given the chance."

"I've never met any druid with ill intentions. How could such a people have violent tribes?"

Kilgharrah sighed as though he was loath to answer his question. "There are those who are impatient for the freeing of magic. They believe that Emrys protects a tyrant." There was an edge to his tone that belied a mixture of annoyance and anger.

Merlin seemed taken aback. "But... Arthur's no tyrant," he argued. "Ever since he took the throne there has been peace here."

"Yes, but magic is not yet free," countered Kilgharrah. "Many fear that in time he will be as ruthless as his father."

Merlin's eyebrows drew together. "They're wrong," he said as though the dragon was the one who needed convincing. "Arthur is to be the greatest king this land has ever known, or will ever know. I don't been prophecies to tell me that."

The dragon fixed him with a fond smile. "You see in him what I have always seen in you, greatness. If he truly is to discover the good in magic, you must be there to help him."

"Always," answered Merlin with a smile. (1)

Kilgharrah bowed again and took his leave, vanishing quickly into the moonless black sky. Merlin stared after him for a while, the confidence he had shown a moment before disappearing almost as fast as the dragon did. He wandered in slow circles, his mind attempting to draw some manner of solution out of Kilgharrah's words, but there was none to be found. As he feared, the only thing he could do now was wait...

... and be ready.

~ooOoo~

In spite of his sluggish and complaining body, Merlin was up and on his way toward the king and queen's chambers bright and early, and yet still somehow late. He jogged quickly to the kitchen where he was loaded down with the royal breakfast; an assortment of fruit, bread, and cheese that would feed a common family of four for days.

Merlin balanced three trays across his arms as he shuffled as steadily down the hall as he was able. The guard outside the royal chambers nodded to him as he stopped and faced the door. He stood there for a long moment, the precarious platters wavering on his thin limbs. He glanced up at the guard, who seemed to have gone back to closely examining whatever stone on the opposite wall tickled his fancy. Merlin loudly cleared his throat, and the guard looked at him.

"Yes? Did you need something?" he asked innocently.

Merlin wasn't sure if the guard was being cruel, or if he was simply thick, but the weight on his poor arms made it difficult not to snap at him. "Could you... get the door?" he asked.

The guard glanced at the door as though he hadn't seen it there before and shrugged and pushed it open. "S'pose I could," he said quietly.

Merlin entered the room to see a fully dressed Guinevere yanking the curtains away from the windows, spilling bright morning light into the eyes of the King, who remained in bed. The blond promptly grumbled and rolled over, pulling a pillow over his head. Gwen giggled at him and moved toward over to the elaborate vanity that sat to one side of the bed.

"Morning Gwen, " said Merlin, kicking the door closed behind him.

She smiled at him in the mirror. "Good morning, Merlin." She picked up a brush and began to idly brush the long hair that hung down from where it had been partly drawn back and pinned up.

Merlin slid the platters onto the dining table and after taking a moment to shake out his now-aching limbs he began to set the table. He glanced to the queen as though just realizing that she was fully ready for the day. "Good grief, what time was Elde in here this morning?"

"From what I could tell, before dawn. I woke up when the sun rose and she was waiting at the foot of the bed like a lost puppy." She stifled another giggle. "She means well, but if she had her way she would do everything from dressing me to spoon-feeding me."

"Wow... she's like a female George," muttered Merlin.

"Who's George?" asked Guinevere, standing and making her way to the table.

"Oh... uh... no one," said Merlin hurriedly. He headed toward the king's desk, but slowed as he got a look at the state of the sleeping ruler. Arthur lay on top of the blankets, fully clothed save his boots. Merlin pointed at him. "What time did he come to bed last night?" he asked.

Gwen turned sympathetic eyes on her husband. "I don't know. It must've been long after I fell asleep. He didn't wake me up." She looked to Merlin. "Why's he spending so much time in the library?"

Merlin paused and then smiled helplessly. "Sorry, I shouldn't say."

Gwen grinned. "Well, then I won't worry. If you're keeping an eye on it then it'll be fine." She picked out a piece of bread and a bit of cheese as Merlin picked up a scroll from the desk and began looking over the contents. Gwen looked at the king again. "Maybe you could try convincing him to come to bed earlier."

Merlin chuckled. "Believe me, the world would be a very different place if I could convince Arthur of anything." He put the scroll down and began to shuffle through Arthur's wardrobe. Gwen swallowed the last bit of her bread as Merlin pulled out a shirt and a pair of trousers and he watched her sit back down at her vanity. "You're not dining with the king?" he stated more than asked.

Gwen picked up her tiara and smiled. "I'm sitting in for Arthur at a council meeting."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You sound almost happy. I was glad to have avoided the one yesterday."

Guinevere began to attempt positioning the tiara on her head, but didn't seem to have much luck getting it to sit straight. "The council members will never respect me if I do nothing but stand at Arthur's side," she said. "If I am to earn their respect and do some good in this kingdom, I must prove that I have a mind of my own." The queen seemed as though she were attempting to convince herself as much as Merlin.

Seeing the queen continue to struggle with the tiara, Merlin walked over and pulled it gently from her hand. "This is what servants are for, Gwen."

"I used to put these on for others all the time. I should be able to put it on myself," she grumbled. It was not lost on Merlin that she failed to say the witch's name.

"Not if Elde had anything to say about it, I'm sure," said Merlin as he positioned the tiara on her head. "There," he announced.

Gwen smiled at her reflection and nodded to Merlin. "Thank you Merl- Hey!" She suddenly stood and rounded on him, attempting to force her lips into a thin line though Merlin could see a smile tugging at them. "I told you not to bow."

He held his hands up defensively. "I didn't!"

"You nodded your head," she argued playfully.

"That's not a bow," countered Merlin

"I believe I asked you not to show deference toward me, Merlin," she groaned. "I'm still Gwen."

"Yes, but now you're _Queen_ Gwen."

Gwen was about to retort when Sir Leon poked his head into the room. "The council is ready for you, My Lady," he said with a smile.

Gwen returned with a smile of her own. "Thank you, Sir Leon."

Merlin motioned to the door as it closed behind the knight. "Oh, so he can call you 'My Lady', but I can't nod my head at you?" he teased.

"_He_ is not my best friend, Merlin," she answered putting a hand on his shoulder.

His heart warmed he smiled as Gwen drew herself up and heaved a sigh. "Good luck, Gwen," he said after a pause.

She nodded at him and turned away, opening the door and motioning to the guards. The sound of their footsteps quickly vanished and Merlin smiled again. A servant becoming a queen on par with the Once and Future King. These truly were extraordinary times. Speaking of whom...

"Up you get!" he cried, walking over to the bed and slamming his hand down on the mattress a few times.

His voice muffled by the pillow, Arthur grumbled, "I'm awake." He moved feebly, but did his best to not remove the pillow from his head. "You have a very grating voice, Merlin, did you know that?"

"Just part of my service to you, Sire," quipped Merlin, grabbing the scroll off the desk again. He opened it and perused it again as Arthur rolled sluggishly out of bed and stalked over to the table. "Well, the new law that needs looking over is first on the list, but Gwen is taking care of that." He grabbed a quill and marked on the parchment.

"What d'you mean, 'she's taking care of that'?" asked Arthur squinting over at the servant, who was enveloped in the cursed morning sunlight streaming in the window.

"She's sitting in for you at the council meeting," answered Merlin.

This seemed to jar the king and he suddenly stood, cramming a piece of bread into his mouth. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier, Merlin?!" he demanded. "I'll not force my wife to sit through one of those boring meetings."

Merlin moved to place a hand on the king's shoulder. "Relax, Arthur. Guinevere has been queen for more than a year now. I'm sure she is very capable of representing your interests." He spun the king around and began marching him back toward the table. "Besides, she seemed excited about it," he said with no small amount of perplexity in his voice.

This also seemed to take Arthur aback. "Oh..." he said as though an opportunity had arisen. He smiled but seemed to attempt to hide it. "That means I don't have to wear that thing." He gestured to the crown which sat on a pedestal near his wardrobe.

It was a little-known fact that Arthur abhorred the headdress that came with royalty. Merlin enjoyed this quirk cause it gave him plenty of opportunity to joke about the size of Arthur's head. But Arthur, when possible, preferred to appear bare-headed. Merlin was surprised to find that Guinevere felt the same way, but for a completely different reason, opting to wear the tiara whenever the situation allowed.

Merlin couldn't help but allow a broad smile to overtake his face as he read further down the list. "Well, while the council is meeting, I imagine you could get some training time in, but after the meeting you are to be the judge of the Junior Jousting group's tournament..."

Merlin looked up and almost choked on air at the mixture of surprise and terror on Arthur's face. "I'm to what?" he demanded.

"Gwen thought it would be a good chance for you to connect with the city's youth." Merlin laughed. "They ride ponies!" he announced as though that should have changed Arthur's entire perspective on the matter.

"Merlin, I am a warrior. I don't know the first thing about children..." He stood and the servant began dressing him. He moved his hands as though he were trying to sculpt clay. "They're just... loud little squishy things that I'm afraid I'll break."

"You don't have to joust against them you know," said Merlin, returning to the closet to fetch his trousers. "You just have to watch them and declare a winner."

"Yeah, but in any other circumstance, I can congratulate a winner by either punching them or tapping a sword to their shoulders." He turned and Merlin fastened his belt around his waist. "I don't think either of them apply here."

"No, but if you like, I will do the dangerous deed of draping the medals over the children's' shoulders." Arthur took a swing at him as Merlin headed back to the desk to fetch the scroll again. "Why do I need to connect with the children anyway? I have trouble understanding full-grown adults much less- Merlin!"

The king took one step toward the breakfast table and whirled around as he heard a loud thud. Merlin was on the floor, hands gripping at his black hair and writhing in apparent agony. Arthur dropped to one knee at his side and grabbed the man's wrists. "Merlin!" When his only response was for the servant to arch his back and let loose a scream of agony, Arthur turned toward the door and yelled, "Guards!"

The door did not immediately burst open, as the guards standing outside the door had left to escort the queen to the meeting. Arthur growled to himself and grabbed one of Merlin's arms, yanking it free from his head and pulling the thin man across his shoulders. He had nearly made it to the door when it finally flew open and the two guards from down the hall appeared with wide eyes.

"Sire, what's happened?" one of them demanded.

Arthur ignored them and hurried down the hall, bending his steps toward the physician's chambers.

* * *

1: A bit of a reference to Castle. Love that show.

Whoo... it's all coming out of my head like a waterfall. I feel like my head is vomiting... but in a good way!

If that makes any sense.

Hopefully my inspiration will continue and I'll have another chapter up soon. I have decided that I will post at least once a week. If I get something out sooner then fantastic. But I am aiming for an update a week. See you all soon!


	4. Her Mission

Sooo... yeah finally decided to get this up. I have had this written for a while now, but have been hesitant to post it. Posting as I write it is a new experience for me and I'm paranoid I'm going to miss some foreshadowing that I had planned out in my head that I forgot to put into the story. I am aaaaaallll about the foreshadowing.

By the way, I guess I am writing this as a alternate season 5 (not that I don't like season 5, but c'mooooon). I'm getting tired of this no-reveal stuff so I am writing my own! That and this plot almost tore me to pieces it jumped on me so hard. I kinda blew off NaNoWriMo for this.

I'm trying to think of some kind of prize for someone who can correctly guess who each of the animals in my fable represents. Hmmm... any ideas?

**Reviewer Responses**

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: I am such a Castle fan. I love Nathan Fillion. 3

HipHuggers2: Oh we're all a little evil in that way, or else there wouldn't be as many Merlin!Whump stories!

Captain Ozone: Thank you! The number of emotions that would run high in these first chapters is staggering and it was difficult trying to figure out what Merlin's reaction would be. It took me a few rewrites to work it all out. As for Gwen, I've always seen her as the support beams that hold up Merlin and Arthur when they are down. I think they're kind of touched on that in season 5, but not nearly enough. I really enjoy writing Gwen here. :)

Healed535: Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. And your theory about the eagle isn't too far off the mark.

shadow visor: Thank you, and don't worry; there's plenty of mental vomitting still to come.

servant123: I'm glad the pacing is good. When I originally envisioned everything it wasn't in chapter form, so it has made it a bit finicky to separate the chapters. I'm glad the pacing feels good. And thank you! Characterization is a pet peeve of mine. Gotta git'em right.

Well anyway, I don't own Merlin so here we go!

* * *

_The tomb of Myrddin has been opened._

The sound of Arthur's voice was suddenly drowned in a pool of screams and cries following the singular understandable sentence. Merlin put a hand to his head and tried to focus as Arthur spoke, but as the screams grew louder suddenly his vision failed him and his head snapped back as though he had been struck in the nose.

For a moment he was free falling, but then he slammed into the cold stone floor and his magic exploded within him. He grasped at his hair as his magic struggled to get out, and his entire being shuddered violently. His stomach twisted itself into a knot and his head felt like it was on fire. As the screams pounded once more into his head he arched his back and let loose a single cry of agony. He felt his body being moved, but his concept of up and down were so hazy he had little understanding of what was happening.

As his consciousness failed him, the voice repeated itself, though this time it was screamed in terror:

_The tomb of Myrddin has been opened!_

_~ooOoo~_

Arthur bent and swung Merlin's still body onto the cot. Gaius pushed him out of the way and began examining him; placing a hand beneath his nose, pressing his other on his forehead, and pulling one of his blue eyes open with his fingers. He quickly let the lid shut again as he found those blue eyes to be flashing gold repeatedly. He glanced behind him at Arthur, though the king was pacing behind him.

When Arthur saw Gaius look at him, he hurried over to the physician. "What is it?"

Gaius thought for a moment, his brain scrambling to come up with some sort of explination. "It is... something I have been treating Merlin for for a few weeks, Sire." Arthur folded his arms and looked pensive. Gaius looked to Merlin and then back to the king. "It seems that the brain has been bruised during a fall. After all, Merlin is not the most graceful of people," he said, forcing a small smile. Arthur didn't return it. "With a bruise like this, any number of side effects can occur," he continued quickly, relying upon Arthur's ignorance of the healing arts to pass his excuse.

Arthur shook his head. "It's different this time, Gaius. All the other times, he would just stop what he was doing and drop. This time he actually screamed in pain."

Gaius gave a blithe wave. "It is nothing to be concerned about, Sire. If Merlin's head leans in a certain direction, it could trigger quite a great deal of pain. All we can do is wait for him to wake up. I'll give him a draft to help with the pain when he awakens."

"Thank you, Gaius." He gave the place a quick look around as though deciding what to do before heaving a sigh and nodding at Gaius. "Send him to see me as soon as he is well enough."

"Of course, My Lord." Gaius bowed and Arthur headed out.

Gaius looked back at Merlin and pulled open the boy's eye once more, watching the flashing of gold for a few moments before putting a hand on his head. "We're lucky Arthur doesn't know much about medicine," he gave a wry smile before wandering over and pulling a book from the shelf and beginning to read.

A few hours passed with Gaius making his way through the book and regularly checking Merlin's flashing eyes. As the sun reached its zenith, he headed off to do his rounds, leaving Gwen- who had hurried down the moment she heard that her friend had collapsed- to watch Merlin. When Gaius returned, he gave Gwen a troubled look. Merlin lay still on the cot. Gwen looked up at Gaius and shook her head.

"He hasn't stirred," she said, looking back at the still man. "I keep checking just to make sure he's breathing."

Gaius put a hand on her shoulder. "He will be fine, Gwen. I'm sure of it." He placed his medicine bag down on the table and looked at the queen. "You should get something to eat. It's well past lunch time. I'll watch him."

Guinevere nodded slowly and hesitantly left the chambers. Gaius took her seat at Merlin's side. As time passed the physician dropped his chin to rest on his chest and it seemed as though he had just closed his eyes when,

"Gaius?"

Gaius jerked upright in his seat and smiled as Merlin tilted his head upward to look at him, his blue eyes tired but open.

"Merlin!" cried the physician happily.

Merlin winced and put a hand to his head as he attempted to lift himself into a sitting position, his strength beginning to return to him. "Ow... what happened?"

"You passed out again. Arthur had to carry you here." Gaius lept to his feet and gently grabbed Merlin's arm. "Carefully, Merlin. I'll get you some water." As soon as Merlin was sitting upright, Gaius shuffled off to fetch a cup. "What happened to you? Arthur said you cried out in pain."

Merlin sighed and held his head in his hands. "It wasn't like this last time, Gaius. Something happened..." Gaius sat back down, pitcher in hand, and gave Merlin the water. Merlin drank greedily, only stopping to breathe long enough for Gaius to refill his cup. After three glasses, Merlin set the cup down and returned his head to his hands. "It was like all the magic in me was trying to run away."

"Like your vision of the Cailleach, you are attuned to the magical world, Merlin. Something of great magical importance must have ocurred."

"And evil," said Merlin, lifting his eyes to look at his mentor. "I could feel it clawing at me." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "And I heard something... a voice."

"I thought you always heard voices," said Gaius.

Merlin shook his head. "Normally I just hear screams and yelling... unintelligible cries of the dying... but this time I heard a sentence. It was the voice of a child... a little girl. She said, 'the tomb of Myrddin has been opened'."

Gaius' eyes widened. "Myrddin?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Merlin, worried by the look of recognition and fear in the old man's eyes. When Gaius didn't respond right away, Merlin bent down to look him in the eye. "Gaius?"

Gaius seemed to suddenly register Merlin's presence and shook his head a little. "Myrddin lived centuries ago. He was a seer, Merlin. Much like Taliesin. It was said his powers were so great that he was eventually driven mad by his visions and spent the last twenty years of his life crafting magical items for something he called the 'ocean of magic's blood'." Merlin gulped and Gaius continued. "Some believe that he was referring to the purge."

"But Taliesin didn't seem dangerous to me. A little annoying, but not dangerous," Merlin scrunched his nose as he recalled the seer's insistance that he stay in that wretched cave despite his pleas to leave.

"Merlin, Myrddin was a very evil man. He gained a following and formed the first tribe of druids that were sworn to dark magic. They were shunned by the larger druid tribes. Whoever opened that tomb can only mean ill for Camelot."

Merlin stared at the floor. There was a certain amount of guilt that tugged at his mind. "They lost faith in me," he whispered to himself.

"Hmm?" Gaius stood and began to head to his potion table.

"It's nothing." Merlin stood as well and stretched. "I assume Arthur wants to see me?" Gaius nodded and Merlin rushed out the door.

It took him a decent amount of time to find the king, having to ask several servants who only knew where the king had _been_. After a while, Merlin finally found Arthur in the armory, slipping his hauberk over his head. "Ah, there you are Merlin. Just in time for a training session with the knights." Merlin sighed and headed over to finish dressing the king. When Merlin didn't say anything, Arthur smirked a little. "Your head still on straight, then? Well," he cocked his head to the side. "As straight as it was."

"Ohh, were you worried about me?" cooed Merlin.

"Don't be daft." Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "However," he continued, pointing his index finger at the ceiling. "Gaius told me that I should go easy on you so as not to worsen the bruise on your brain."

Merlin stared ahead for a moment, attempting to translate what Arthur had just said. It took him a few moments to work out that a 'bruised brain' had been the false diagnosis that Gaius had given the king. He held in a chuckle at the idea that the king had actually believed such nonsense.

"I see. Well, you should go easier on me all the time," said Merlin.

As the servant turned to grab the voiders(1), Arthur stood and wandered over to an area where several sets of armor had been laid awaiting cleaning. From the pile he produced a large houndskull(2) helm, eyeing it for a moment and then nodding at it. He walked back to the bench and sat down for Merlin to put the finishing touches on his armor.

"Unfortunately for myself and the men, this means you won't be holding a shield for us today. You'll be doing your carrying with this to protect your little noggin." As soon as the last strap had been tied, Arthur scooped up the helm and plopped it onto Merlin's head, the boy suddenly resembling a watermelon that had been impaled by a stick. Merlin's thin figure wavered a little and he placed his hands on the pointed visor, searching for the small slit near the top.

Arthur snorted with the effort to hold in his laughter and clapped Merlin roughly on the shoulder. "All you have to do is manage our weapons." He gave the helm a knock and Merlin jumped at the clanging that seemed to echo in this little room of metal.

"Arthur, I can't see!" He called after the king, whose footsteps he could hear rapidly heading out of the armory. He squinted his eyes to see through the small holes that perforated the front of the visor, but the resulting gait was rather wobbly and it took him several minutes to reach the training field where Arthur had several of his knights lined up to watch Merlin's awkward exit. Merlin could tell he had arrived by the chorus of laughter.

The training was more pain-free than normal, not having to stand holding a shield as the large knights hammered on it with swords, maces, and actual hammers. But each time he would remove the helmet to take a breath of fresh air or to see where the knight to which he was to bring a weapon was standing, Arthur would threaten him with polishing duty for the whole regiment. And so Merlin's time was passed breathing in stuffy air and feeling sweat drip down his temple while the rest of his body chilled in the cool autumn air.

It wasn't until the knights and Arthur returned to the armory as the sun began to set and began to remove their armor that Merlin was finally permitted to take the helmet off. Arthur laughed and pointed at him. "See? Didn't you feel safe from head pain with that on?"

"Absolutely, Sire," said Merlin, doing nothing to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

Elyan tossed his hauberk into the pile of armor and moved over to the servant. "Merlin, are you really alright? Arthur won't admit it, but we were all pretty concerned when we heard what happened."

The knight suddenly yelped as a gauntlet hit him in the back of the head. He turned to chuckle at the king and then looked back to Merlin. The servant nodded. "I'm fine. My head will heal."

Gwaine laughed and threw an arm over Merlin's shoulders. "Well that's good to hear. Your head's been in need of healing for years now," he teased.

Merlin laughed along with the others and took a playful swipe at Gwaine. The knight skillfully dodged and backed up, but ran into Percival. The bear of a man chuckled a little and suddenly took an iron hold on Gwaine's arms, locking his own together beneath the smaller man's biceps.

Gwaine struggled, but Percival held fast. "You know," began Percival, a mischievous smile on his face that soon infected the rest of the knights. "Merlin spends a lot of time as our training dummy, and now he's had to help us even when he's injured. I think he deserves to practice on a dummy now and then too, eh?"

Leon and Elyan chuckled quietly and Arthur smiled at his knights as Gwaine laughed and did what he could to loose himself from Percival's iron grip. The large man seemed to barely notice his efforts. "Go on," said Elyan motioning to Merlin. "Give him a good smack or two."

Merlin shook his head. "Oh I couldn't," he said, laughing. "You know me... all muscle. Might hurt him." He pretended to flex his thin arms and laughed along with the other knights.

The laughter and noise in the room quieted suddenly when the door flew open and a guard rushed into the room. "Sire!" he cried. Arthur looked to him. "Your presence is needed in the Court Physician's chambers immediately."

Arthur nodded and shot a glance to Merlin. Without having to be told, Merlin jogged after him.

There were two guards waiting in Gaius' chambers when the two of them arrived. Gaius was hunched over the cot. Arthur stopped to speak to the guards as Merlin rushed past them to Gaius' side.

"What's happened?" asked the king.

"She came from the northern woods, Sire," answered one of the guards. "She appears wounded and the only thing she would say is that she needed to speak with you."

"She even objected to being brought here," said the other. "Just kept saying she needed to give you something."

Arthur nodded and watched as Merlin was sent to one of the tables to throw a draft together. He dismissed the guards and moved to stand over Gaius's shoulder. He let his jaw drop a little at the sight lying on the cot.

The girl couldn't have been past her 8th year. She wore the rough green robe of a druid, though it had been stained in several places by what Arthur feared to be blood. Her midsection appeared soaked in red and there were cuts and dirt covering her face. Her small hands were clenched tightly around a little bag that Gaius was attempting to gently wrestle from her grip. Her eyes were closed, but she was clearly conscious as she shook her head back and forth against Gaius' attempts.

Merlin pushed past Arthur and lifted her shoulders to seat himself underneath them. He held a small bottle in his other hand and he pressed it to her lips. "We need you to drink this; it will help you."

At being moved and then spoken to, the girls deep brown eyes slowly opened and widened at the sight of the servant. Merlin's stomach once again erupted into butterflies. Before now, if a druid called him Emrys, he would have little to fear, but with Arthur's research he now knew the meaning of the name.

His mind was eased when she caught sight of Arthur's blond head and attempted to sit up. Merlin did his best to gently hold her down. "King Arthur!" she gasped. It sounded as though she had not had water for days. Merlin was taken aback by her voice but he tried to hide it.

As Gaius headed off to fetch some water for her, Arthur knelt at the side of the bed, sympathy in his eyes. She held the small bag out to him. Her eyelids drooped heavily as though she would sleep at any moment. Arthur took the bag from her and she sat back against Merlin, watching as he opened it. He upturned the little sack and a golden piece fell into his palm. As he examined it, Merlin coaxed the contents of the bottle into her mouth.

The piece was flawless and of beautiful craftsmanship. There was an empty setting as though it were meant to hold an oblong gem of some kind. From that setting there reached four thin legs ending in sharp points and flat on one side. Arthur turned it over in his hands a few times and then looked back to her as if expecting an explination.

"For your sword," she rasped, pointing weakly at him.

Arthur shook his head. "What do you mean? What is this for?"

Her eyes closed and then opened like a long blink and then heaved a breath. "You will need it to save him."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. That hadn't explained anything.

Gaius returned with the water, but the girl pushed it away and instead grabbed the front of Merlin's shirt and stared into his eyes.

_Emrys,_ she said into his head. _Beware the one with the corrupted mark_.

Her hand went slack and she fell back onto his lap and her eyes slipped closed. Arthur stepped back as Gaius moved to check her vitals.

After a pause, Arthur asked, "Is she alive?"

"Yes sire," answered Gaius. "But only just. I will see what I can do."

Arthur nodded and left, followed by the two guards.

Gaius let out a breath as the door shut behind Arthur. "I feared she was about to call you Emrys, Merlin."

Merlin nodded and eased her back down onto the cot. "Me too. But it seems her real mission was to get that golden piece to Arthur."

Gaius grabbed the cloth and bowl of water that had been set to the side and began to dab at her face as Merlin opened one of the cupboards to fetch bandages. "Poor girl," Gaius mused. "These wounds are fresh. She must have run all the way here from her village." He moved a little to examine the bottoms of the girl's feet. They were cut and blistered from her run and blood mingled with dirt along her heels and toes.

"She's the one I heard, Gaius," said Merlin suddenly, placing the bandages at the bedside and beginning to remove the girl's stained cloak. "She's the one who said that the tomb had been opened."

Gaius looked up from where he was attempting to ease the blood and dirt from her feet. He looked at the girl and then back to Merlin. "I hope she said all she needed to say, Merlin. If she survives this, she won't be waking up for some time."

* * *

1: Voiders are shoulder armor according to Guinevere

2: A houndskull helm is one of the ones with the pointed visor. Kinda looks like a beak. lol

Alright. Hope you enjoyed and I will see you all later!


	5. Their Arrival

Soooo...

Let's just say I am posting this chapter in a mild state of PROTEST!

Here's the thing... I adore Merlin. My friends say I have an unhealthy obsession with it and obviously I love it or I wouldn't be writing this fic. Buuuuut...

Is anyone else feeling a little down about the new episodes? I mean... it feels like we're meandering around. I love Guinevere as a character, and Morgana even more as a villain, but I'm kinda bored with the show kinda circling around the two of them whist sacrificing one of the main reasons I love the show... you know... Merlin and Arthur. Merlin's all serious and such and I could do without the comedy, but now we're losing the bromance! I am so sadpanda! The episode released today was (without spoiling anything) retreading an old concept- that Merlin supports Arthur despite the fear that he would be killed if was he found out. Either way, I've done enough ranting. I'm posting this one in PROTEST!

No, I don't really know how that works. I think seeing the show not doing what I want it to do is making my brain throw a tantrum and I want to write what I want it to do instead. Sorry for my whining, all. I'm sure I'm not the only one impatient for a reveal. Maybe it's because between Tumblr, Facebook, and Fanfiction, I think Merlin's magic reveal has covered most of the ways it could happen, so I'm more looking forward to seeing how the reveal affects things more than the reveal itself. But I digress...

Back to something relevant!

I've kinda been writing like a madwoman lately. But I suppose in view of the story as a whole, I've barely started into the central point of the plot. There has been PLENTY of foreshadowing, but we're barely started. Lol

I hope that's a good thing. Oo

Thank you so much for your reviews! I really enjoy hearing from you guys and it really fuels the momentum of my uploads. Please keep it up and tell me what I am doing right or wrong!

Hanyou-demoness: As a writer, I find that it is difficult for movies and tv shows to surprise me. Generally you can tell what is going to happen by the way that things are set up in the beginning of the story. My like and respect for a movie or show shoots sky high when they can take me by surprise, and so when I write something like this, where a lot of the elements are hidden, I try to do what I can to write something that might surprise me. Lol

**Reviewer Responses**

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: First one to get them right! :) Except the eagle, but the eagle doesn't count. The eagle isn't a character from the show. Lol

CaptainOzone: Ahh, Merlin!Whump. Fun times. And that was one thing I loved about season four. You saw the knights, Arthur, and Merlin developing a brotherly bond. I loved they way they play tricks, pick on each other and the like. I wanted to have at least one of those brotherly scenes in here. Thank you!

Jossy99: Sure. Trying to get this story out as quickly as I can while the inspiration is kicking me in the pants. XD

GeorgiaEmrys1D: Awww, thank you! :)

Lady Willamina: Don't be scared! XD And yeah, she's cryptic. How cryptic is she, on a scale of 1 to Kilgharrah? Lol

That-is-illogical: Thanks! :D

Healed535: Foreshadowing is like... half of my planning at the beginning of each story. Partly because I like it when movies do it, or games or shows. Something seemingly insignificant proves to be important later on, just to say, "how well were you paying attention?" Lol

shadow visor: Will do! *salute*

Ash9: Me? A writer for the show? *Squee/blush* Thank you!

This chapter is a little short because after writing what I thought was going to be the next chapter, I realized that the chapter was freakishly long, so I had to cut it in half. Or thirds... Chapter six is still preeeeetty long.

I don't own Merlin, and here we go!

* * *

The days passed quickly. Nearly a week went by with Merlin juggling between his normal duties and helping Gaius care for the small sleeping druid. His mind had become oddly silent. The screams had stopped entirely.

Merlin thought he would have been relieved at their absence, but he found he was just as anxious as he had been awaiting the next assault on his mind. The evil that had roamed the northern tribes swept through each tribe, leaving no life still flickering (from what Merlin had heard) now suddenly stopped. Had they achieved whatever wicked end they had sought? Now that the terror appeared to be over, was there a fresh threat on its way to Camelot?

Even though his body badly craved the sleep lost during the druid attacks, he found that it took a day full of physical labor to exhaust him enough to sleep. Following days when he was simply running errands, he found himself lying awake until all hours of the morning, falling asleep-it seemed- just before the sun began to light the night sky.

It was a rare morning that he would be on time, even according to Arthur's standards. The sun's rays had only just begun to creep across the horizon when Merlin crawled out of bed and readied himself for the day. He took a moment to check on the druid girl and then headed out to fetch the king's breakfast.

As he carried a tray in each hand down the hall toward Arthur's chambers, he passed Guinevere in one of her more simple dresses with a young (excessively perky) servant with blonde hair.

"Good morning, Gwen," said Merlin, making a conscious effort to not nod his head or bend his knees toward her. He smiled at the blond. "Elde."

Gwen's smile was a little forced and she nodded at him. "Arthur's already up," she said. "He's going to need you at your best today, Merlin."

Merlin's smile faded as well and he gave her a somewhat perplexed nod as the two women headed briskly down the hall. Merlin wobbled into the king's chambers to find the man pacing back and forth in front of his bed, wearing only the trousers he had slept in. A hand was held to his mouth in concentration and his posture was tense and jittery. He didn't seem to notice that Merlin had entered.

"You're up early," said the servant, setting the large table.

Arthur's head snapped up. "And where have you been?" he asked with a wide sweep of his hand.

Merlin looked to the door and then back to the king. "Um… getting your breakfast?"

Arthur begrudgingly accept this excuse but his irritation continued. "You're late," he grumbled.

Merlin smiled. "Actually, for once I'm not. You're early." That the normally hungry king ignored the set table in favor of continued pacing concerned the servant.

"I'm the king of Camelot. You're late if I say you are."

Merlin shrugged and the two fell into silence. He was about to comment when Arthur spoke first.

"How's the druid girl?"

The warlock was taken aback by the question. For nearly a week the druid girl had slumbered on a cot in the physician's chambers, and Arthur hadn't shown much interest until now. "She's alright. She was very weak when she arrived so her wounds are taking a long time to heal. Gaius says it could be some time until she awakens… if she does at all." Again, Arthur failed to acknowledge his servant or his breakfast.

Merlin crossed the room to the wardrobe and began selecting clothes. Arthur remained silent, barely aware that he wasn't alone in the room. Finally Merlin dropped the clothes onto the bed and threw his hands up. "Alright, what's wrong, Arthur?"

The king looked up and placed his hands on his hips, finally halting his pacing. He sighed. "Two druids arrived in Camelot late last night. They wish to speak with me."

Merlin's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me? Is something wrong?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, doesn't seem to be."

The idea that it could be a coincidence that not even a week after a druid girl had stumbled into their city, two druids arrived in Camelot without warning was immediately dismissed in his mind. Did they have information on the attacks that had just recently stopped? And with the arrival of more druids, Merlin's fear of one of them slipping and calling him Emrys increased. "Why did they come here?" he asked, attempting to keep his mind from thinking too far into his fear and sending him down the road of panic again.

A smile attempted to take over Arthur's mouth but his caution stifled it for the most part. "They seem to be here to discuss peace." He clicked his tongue and stopped his pacing again, moving to the window that overlooked the courtyard.

Merlin smiled, but it immediately vanished as he saw the agitation in Arthur's movements. "I don't understand, Arthur. Shouldn't this be a great opportunity?"

Arthur nodded. "It is. But I hardly know how to approach it." Merlin rounded the bed and stood a few feet behind him. "More than anything, I want this kingdom to be peaceful and _united_ Merlin. And that includes the druids." He leaned one shoulder against the wall. "They are far better people than I if they can forgive us after the wrongs this kingdom has inflicted on them."

Merlin smiled. So often would Arthur exhibit the same sternness that had dominated Uther's rule. But when he broke away from those ways, Merlin couldn't help but feel his chest fill with pride. "The fact that they are here proves that they desire to try as you do, Sire."

Arthur turned sincere and worry-filled eyes on him. "But how do I do this, Merlin? How do I even begin to heal all of the damage that has been done over the past twenty years?"

The anxiety and helplessness that shone in his eyes weighed heavily on Merlin and he retreated to straighten the bedclothes. "Just trust yourself, Arthur. The sword you pulled out of the stone is proof that you will lead us into an age of prosperity. Talk to them and I know you'll do the right thing." It was no secret that Merlin believed in Arthur more than the king believed in himself, but Merlin had difficulty reassuring him. Just as Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about Merlin he couldn't understand, Merlin had difficulty pointing out what part of Arthur the king could fall back upon to lead him in the right direction. It wasn't simply a single aspect of Arthur that made him a great king... it was the man as a whole; the combinations of all his strengths and weaknesses to create a strong and understanding king. Merlin could hardly put such a concept to his own words, even if he knew how.

Arthur pursed his lips and nodded. He then seemed to shake off the sentimental moment by grabbing an apple off the table and taking a large bite out of it. "You do now and then say useful things, Merlin." He fell into a seat and reclined it a little, hefting his bare feet onto the table. "Even if you are a shabby-looking twig-man."

Merlin rolled his eyes and as Arthur finished off his apple, he stood and gave a yawn that lasted until he had walked over for the servant to begin dressing him.

"Another late night at the library?" Merlin asked, throwing Arthur's tunic over his head. He forced a smile onto his face and hoped the king had simply been kept up with his worry over the druids' arrival.

"Yes," said Arthur, dashing Merlin's hopes. "But it seems I am finally making some progress."

There was an almost audible _plunk_ as Merlin felt his heart drop into his stomach. Although he really didn't feel like finding out, he asked, "Oh? In that scroll you found in the vaults?"

Arthur vanished behind the changing screen. "Yes. It seems the first scroll I found was more dedicated to prophecies and visions. It's where my father found the two prophecies he believed to be connected to Emrys. The scroll from the vault seems to be focusing more on Emrys himself."

_Plunk._

Merlin was glad Arthur couldn't see him at the moment. He had to catch his breath, leaning on a bed post. But he quickly straightened as the king reemerged. He didn't want to know how close Arthur was to his secrets. He wanted to plug his ears and ignore the entire situation, hoping the king would get bored or stumped and give up the search. Since that was likely not the case and Gaius had told him to keep an eye on his research, he needed to know. "So what have you found?"

"I've only just started translating." Arthur shrugged. "I'm not the best at deciphering druidic runes. The bits I've managed to translate so far have referred to the greatness of Emrys's power. From the way they spoke about him, it's possible he may even surpass Morgana."

Merlin scrunched his nose. Of course he was more powerful than Morgana. Wasn't he? His fear made his confidence suddenly falter and Arthur continued, pulling his jacket over his broad shoulders. "Druids write in such circles it's difficult to be sure, but I think they were referencing items that can be used to identify Emrys."

_PLUNK!_

Merlin busied himself with tidying up the room, almost frantically. Until now, that no scroll could point a finger directly at him had been adequate to hold back his panic. It seemed as though that comfort was also evaporating.

"Seems a little dangerous, don't you think?" asked Merlin, hoping Arthur wouldn't notice the quaking in his voice. "I mean, hunting someone who is supposedly so powerful?"

"No more dangerous than facing a dragon with nothing but shields and swords," answered Arthur. "Whether he proves to be an enemy or an ally, it is imperative that he is found; Either to stop him, or to make peace with him."

Merlin stopped and almost dropped the basket of clothes he had collected. An ally? Had Arthur truly just said that? He tried to hide his hopeful smile. "An ally, sire?"

Arthur swung his cape over his shoulders. "It is a strange concept, I know. But he was significant enough to Morgana for her to mention him. If he is truly as powerful as the scrolls are indicating, wouldn't he have toppled Camelot by now if he had ill intentions? To possibly become allies with a sorcerer is an unlikely ideal, I know. If anything, it would be wise to at least make peace with him."

Merlin almost smiled. Arthur's mind remained closed for the most part. But almost as though looking through the keyhole, the warlock began to see a sliver of light.

Arthur sucked in a deep breath and set his shoulders, eyeing himself in the mirror. He jumped a little when Sir Leon stuck his head in the door. "The druids are ready for you, Sire."

Arthur motioned to Merlin and the servant dropped the basket and followed the king to the throne room.

The doors yawned open in front of the king. The room was lined with servants and nobles from around the castle and Merlin recognized several council members in the mix as well. The two druids were at the front of the hall, already kneeling before the empty thrones. Arthur stood in front of his throne and Merlin took his place in the left corner behind him.

"Please rise," Arthur commanded.

The druids quickly obeyed. There was a man and a woman, dressed in traveling clothes, and their forms hidden beneath large capes. The clasp on the man's cape boasted a beautiful red oval gem, which glittered in the sun streaming in the windows. The woman was elegant and beautiful, her raven hair swept behind her and held in place by and intricate pin that resembled a vine. The man was heavy-set and rugged with a healthy beard, his large frame lined with muscles that spoke to his experience in the wilds.

Each movement they made was closely followed by the guards, their hands instinctively twitching toward their swords a few times. As she rose, the woman's deep green eyes locked with Merlin's blue. Something rose in the pit of his stomach and he felt suddenly ill. But, when she looked at Arthur, her eyes were kind.

"Sire, my name is Edlyn, and this is my brother Morven. We have travelled from the southern lands, and from the Druid tribe of Wyllt," she began.

Arthur contemplated them for a moment before answering. "Very bold of you to enter the city like this, considering Camelot's history with the Druids."

Merlin stared at Edlyn, but it was not her beauty that drew his attention. Something about the two of them set him off-balance, as though there were a large mass leaning against his senses. He shifted his weight a little and a glint off of the red gem on the man's cape caught his eye. He stood transfixed for a moment before his eyelids began to droop and he forced himself alert to listen to the ensuing conversation.

"We come to extend the hand of friendship, your majesty," said Morven. As he spoke, he gestured to the king with his own hand, revealing the druid symbol just below his elbow. Again, Merlin stared. His brow furrowed, but next to him Arthur smiled.

"It gladdens me that you've decided to make this journey, Morven and Edlyn. But it is no secret that my father has greatly persecuted your kind for many years. I would be remiss if I didn't question your motives," Arthur said, attempting to make his words as gentle as possible.

But Edlyn smiled. "It is understandable Sire. But many tribes have also come to believe that you are the king that will lead this land into prosperity. You are a wise man, and we wish to live as a part of your kingdom, and not merely in it."

The druids and the royals continued talking, but Merlin's mind was held by that gem and the image of Morven's druid mark. When he stared at the gem, it was as though the world around him grew hazy. It almost felt like walking through a dream and his eyelids once again became heavy. In what seemed like an instant the meeting between the druids and the king had ended. Merlin was snapped back to reality by Arthur's movement to shake Morven's hand. Merlin felt his stomach toss and turn as he watched the handshake as though he expected the druid to use it to kill the king. Nothing of the sort happened, and the room erupted into subdued applause. Arthur gestured to the druids.

"Please, stay in Camelot as our guests. I hope that soon, we may begin peace talks between the druids and the kingdom of Camelot," announced Arthur. The same nervous applause followed the king out and though he probably expected the servant to follow him, Merlin ran toward Gaius' quarters.

~ooOoo~

"What's all the excitement?" asked Gaius as Merlin flew into the physician's chambers. Gaius held in his hands the elixirs and potions meant for his rounds. "Everyone seems to be anxious."

Merlin paused in front of the door to speak. "Some druids have come to Camelot seeking peace," he answered passing Gaius and eventually sitting at the side of the druid girl's bed.

Gaius paused in his preparations. "Really? Well that's wonderful." He watched the boy tense up on the stool. "Why do you seem upset?"

It was not lost on Merlin that a conversation almost identical had occurred up in the king's chambers less than an hour before, though now he was the one who needed reinforcement "Something's wrong," said Merlin, putting a hand on the girl's forehead. At last sweat had begun to appear on her brow as the fever broke. His eyes were soft; as though the girl lying on the cot were an old friend. Perhaps it was his inability to save so many others that made him desperate to see this girl open her eyes again. "I can't... put my finger on it." Gaius could see Merlin struggling to put words to his feelings. "Something feels wrong."

"How do you mean?" asked Gaius, putting the last of his supplies into his medicine bag and moving to stand at Merlin's side.

"When I saw the man's mark... just... something about it felt off. And he wears this gem on his cloak," Merlin motioned to his neck where the gem had been set on Morven's. "It makes me feel... heavy. Almost suffocated," he explained, his voice softening as he recalled the feeling.

Gaius pondered the words for a moment. He had well learned by now that ignoring Merlin's instincts was a mistake. Even so, he was having difficulty convincing himself that Merlin's disturbance at the arrival of the druids had nothing to do with the anxiety he had been riddled with since he discovered Arthur's research.

"You have been under a lot of pressure lately, Merlin," offered Gaius, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Could it be that you're just worried that one of the druids will use the name Emrys?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. There was something there, Gaius. I just can't..." he trailed off. "'Beware the one with the corrupted mark'," he whispered to himself. Gaius didn't seem to hear him.

A feeling of helplessness came over Gaius. In most cases when Merlin sensed danger, there was little he could do but provide knowledge as best he could. Here, even simple knowledge seemed useless. He resigned to simply patting him on the shoulder and heading off to do his rounds.

Merlin sat in silence for a while, his fingers interlocked in front of his mouth and his breathing steady. So many questions and worries were swirling in his head like a powerful winter storm. He didn't know what he should worry about more; his feelings about the druids or how close Arthur was to the name Emrys. Were there truly items that could tell Arthur of Merlin's true nature? Would it be better to tell Arthur now instead of having him find out on his own? There certainly was no guarantee that these items even existed, much less were within Arthur's reach. If that was the case, it would be very possible that Merlin would reveal all for no reason.

It was going to hurt. There was no doubt in his mind about that. Ignoring his blatant violation of the law, he had been lying to Arthur for near on a decade now; a man who had become his best friend (not that either party would admit that). So many opportunities to tell the truth had come and gone. Each time, Merlin had been frightened into inaction, worried that the revelation of his magic would take him from the one place he most desired to be; at Arthur's side.

He was startled out of his musings by Gwaine sticking his head in the door. "Hey Merlin," he said with a smile.

Merlin turned on the stool and smiled weakly back at him. "What is it, Gwaine?"

If Gwaine noticed the lack of familiarity in Merlin's tone, he said nothing about it. "The king has ordered a hunt with the druids. He wants you to prepare the horses and supplies, and to make sure there is an extra horse for Morven." Gwaine ducked his head back out the door without waiting for an answer, but immediately swung back inside as he remembered something. "And Arthur wants you to meet him on the training field once everything is prepared."

Merlin groaned but nodded. "I'll be right there." Gwaine smiled and vanished again. The warlock rolled his eyes. All of the knights seemed to enjoy a good hunt. Merlin did not.

_Emrys..._

Merlin turned back to the cot and broke into a broad smile. With her initial cry about Myrddin, there was no way for the warlock to mistake the young girl's voice.

_I'm here_, he replied, taking her small hand into his. _Rest, you're safe now._

He could almost feel her relax a bit, but he could also feel her mind was exhausted simply from the brush with his.

_Dayla..._ The voice in his mind was like a whisper; barely audible.

_What?_ Merlin physically cocked his head to one side.

_My name is Dayla._

With that single declaration, Merlin felt her mind slip away and she was fully asleep once again. He grabbed the nearby rag and dabbed at her forehead. He couldn't say he minded that there had been no additional information to be had from the mental exchange. One girl had survived. Even if it was only one, Merlin wanted to save someone from the horrors that he had been privy to.

Even though she was far from awakening, she had the strength to speak into his mind. At last, she was gaining strength.

* * *

Lemme know what you think and I'll see you soon! :)


	6. His Warmth

Alright everyone, if you haven't heard the news, it was announced this evening that season 5 will be the final season of Merlin.

Despite my rant in the last chapter, I am not as upset as I thought I would be at hearing this news. Not that it makes much sense to me... the show (as far as I know) has quite a following in both the UK and America, so it doesn't make much sense to finish the show. If the writers were the ones pulling the plug, it would make more sense as it would signal the completion of their story. But from what I understand it was the producers that did it. I guess they have a fear of fame and money. *shrug*

There are three reasons I am uploading this chapter so soon after the last one.

1. To ease the pain of having our beloved Merlin taken from us before his time (though to be honest, ten years of programming from now would be before his time in the fans' eyes, I think lol)

2. Because I had it written.

3. Because Mediatrix and flyaway213 took the time to reassure me when my doubts about the show reared their ugly heads.

I've always known that there was no guarantee that the show would be granted a sixth season. I would have liked for them to do the first episode with the reveal in it and then spend the rest of the season focusing on the changes and challenges that come with that revelation, but at this point, I will be happy if we get one or two episodes post-reveal. Just a few episodes to get a feel for Camelot's (and especially Arthur's) reactions.

Also, before I get to the story, I need to do a little disclaimer here. *Ahem*

At work one day last week, I emailed my friend Tom about my writing. According to Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of British Kings, Arthur lived in the 6th century. So I asked Tom to help me come up with some common activities that people in the 6th century did... you know, aside from killing each other over land and trying to avoid the plague. What you see here is the result of his help! :D

**Reviewer Responses**

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Lol, you have seen all of them... DUN DUN DUNNNNN

Mediatrix: Yeah, the bromance has been quite legendary. I guess I was just fuming. Lol And part of the reason that we haven't gotten as much banter is because Merlin is a lot more somber here. The story is getting darker, and Merlin's outlook is matching.

flyaway213: Yeah, it hurts to see Gwen all chummy with Morgana. Not simply because we know that Gwen is being twisted, but because at one time, the friendship between them was absolutely adorable. I loved how much they cared for one another. Morgana's transformation into the evil priestess she became was so heartwrenching for me because I loved how sweet she was before the change.

CaptainOzone: I'm surprised Arthur doesn't have a normal insult for how skinny Merlin is. Lol. The bromance! So much bromance it blinds meh! And I really like writing the thoughtful Arthur. I think that is the side of him that Merlin sees becoming such a great king.

1983Sarah: Oh... a lot is up with them. XD

EchoRose480: Awww, really?! *Squee/blush* Thank you!

shadow visor: You did indeed get it right. Nice! :)

servant123: Pump it! *dances*

I don't own Merlin, and here we go!

* * *

The idea of going hunting with Arthur was unappealing as it was- there were few things among Merlin's duties that he detested more than hunting- but now he was to spend the entire day with the druid. Perhaps this was an opportunity to learn more about him. Perhaps the difference in the southern tribes was what was grating on his senses. Or perhaps, this was a chance to further understand Dayla's warning. Once his and Arthur's horses had been prepared, and a tall black mare had been selected as the extra horse, Merlin jogged over to the training field and met a rather unusual sight.

Arthur and Morven were standing in the middle of the field on their own (Morven having left his cape and, consequently the gem, elsewhere to Merlin's relief), a rather large leather sack sitting on the ground between them and a pair of heavy gloves in Arthur's hand. Morven's right arm was extended and perched upon a thick piece of animal hide tied to his forearm was a magnificent bird. Merlin couldn't help the smile that came over his face, his concern about Morven shoved to the back of his mind. The creature was beautiful. Vibrant brown, beige, and white feathers covered its back and face and it's eyes were large and black, surveying everything. But the minute Merlin came within its sight, the eyes snapped to him and stared steadily at him. It straightened up as it looked at him, showing off a long neck and a regal posture, with long feathers above its eyes taking on the subtle look of a crown. Its legs were thick and stocky with large talons covered partially by soft feathers.

"Merlin, meet Free… uh.. Frio Nem..." Arthur chuckled sheepishly as he struggled with the name. He looked to Morven.

"Her name is Frio Niman," said Morven, looking to Merlin. "In the language of the druids, it means 'to bring peace'."

Arthur smiled warmly. Merlin couldn't take his eyes off the bird. "The druids have been hunting with hawks for generations. Morven has graciously offered to teach us how to do the same," announced Arthur.

The idea appealed to the warlock. It was one thing when the hunters were armed with swords and bows and arrows, and another when the hunters' weapons were not so different from the preys'. At least that was what Merlin attempted to convince himself. He still hated the cries of the animals they killed. Some part of his magic bubbled and ached at the deaths.

Morven ran a hand along the bird's back. "Hawking (1) is a pastime among my people, and a way of life for some of them. In my family, a baby hawk is given to the children when they reach the age of fifteen, and the bird becomes their partner. We train them, feed them, play with them, and even sleep with them." He pulled a small sliver of meat from a bag at his hip and held it to the bird's face. Frio stared intently at it for a moment and then snatched it from Morven's fingers. The bird bent down and caught the meat between her talons and the arm guard and began to rip smaller pieces off until it was gone. Arthur watched with fascination, and despite Merlin's aversion to hunting and to meat, he did as well. Once her snack had been eaten, the bird straightened, ruffled her feathers and looked again toward Merlin, seemingly transfixed. "I have brought Frio here to serve as a gift of good will from my people."

Arthur looked at the mighty animal and stepped back a little. "Morven, I could hardly deprive you of your companion."

Morven chuckled. "Oh, Frio is not my partner, Sire." He faced the castle and gave a whistle that made Merlin wince. From around one of the towers a black dot shot with a speed that matched nothing Merlin had ever seen. Morven extended his other arm- also encircled with a thick slab of hide- and the bird came to a graceful landing on it. The hawk stood more than two feet high, its wingspan as large as Merlin was tall. He was stocky with wide-set legs and every inch of him radiated power. His healthy feathers shone in the sunlight and each one was coal black and tipped with white. "This is my partner. His name is Colsweart." He smiled sheepishly. "It is not a very original name. In the language of my people, it simply means black."

Arthur smiled and Morven shook his arm a little. Colsweart flew away to land on the weapons rack and Merlin swore he could see a glare being directed at Frio. From his face, Merlin could tell Arthur noticed it too. Morven chuckled again. "He is a jealous animal, Colsweart," he said, bending down to rummage through the sack that sat at his feet. "He dislikes it when another hawk is on my arm."

Arthur laughed and Morven straightened to offer a thick length of hide to the king. "You will need this," he said.

Arthur smiled broadly, but before he could take it, Merlin stepped forward and took the hide. "Allow me, Sire," he said, not bothering to hide his own grin. Morven provided him with a thick leather string and Merlin strapped the sheet around Arthur's muscled forearm. Morven dug into his bag again and produced a small sack attached to a belt like the one he wore. Merlin barely had to smell it to know it was filled with raw meat. Merlin carefully strapped it around Arthur's waist (ignoring the weight joke that popped into his head).

"You will want to wear your gloves at first, your majesty," said Morven, motioning to the gloves Arthur had brought. "The beak of a hawk is sharp and until you feel comfortable, you will want to protect your fingers." The druid held up his hand as though to demonstrate. Morven's fingers were mottled and crisscrossed with scars, some of which looked like they had gone all the way to the bone. Arthur's face fell a bit. "They do not do it purposefully, my liege," he assured the king.

Arthur quickly put on his gloves, apparently eager to hold the bird for the first time. Morven made a series of clicks with his tongue and Frio finally took her eyes from Merlin to look at the druid. With little hesitation, the bird opened its large wings and hopped over to Arthur's arm. The king wobbled a little and the bird kept her wings spread as she leveled out. Though the bird weighed no more than two pounds, Arthur felt very off balance. "I never imagined a bird could be so heavy," he said. Only Merlin was able to tell that the king was somewhat breathless.

Colsweart gave a few coos and without any noise from Morven he launched off the weapons rack and perched again on his arm. He ruffled his feathers and to Merlin it seemed as though he were attempting to look as beautiful as possible. Morven smiled and ran his hand along his back and he cooed happily.

Arthur didn't seem to be faring as well. Frio continuously fidgeted, her black eyes trained on Merlin. She flapped her wings and squeaked occasionally. The king was having trouble keeping his balance with the hawk bouncing around as she was. Morven smiled at first, but then frowned a little. "I apologize, my lord! Frio Niman has been trained by many different people and has not bonded with anyone as of yet. I can't imagine why she is so anxious."

Finally, after almost toppling Arthur over, Frio took flight, aiming for Merlin. The warlock didn't feel frightened of the creature, merely startled by the sudden movement and his arms instinctively came up as the bird drew closer. Frio gently lowered herself onto one of them. Merlin slowly straightened and held his arm out to the side, Frio hopping a little as his arm turned. The servant had to wince as the bird's sharp talons sliced easily through the fabric of his jacket and began to poke at the skin underneath. Merlin was so awestruck by the creature that he didn't particularly care. The hawk's large back eyes fixed on him again and she cooed. Merlin gave a broad grin and looked to Morven and Arthur; the former holding an expression of confusion and the latter's eyes filled with annoyance.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin shrugged. "I didn't do anything, Sire." The warlock had to admit that he felt a small amount of glee at the irritation on Arthur's face.

Arthur looked to Morven for an explanation. Merlin could tell the king was not trying to be accusatory, as they were here for peace talks, but having the animal he was meant to be training suddenly fly off in favor of the servant had wounded his pride to some degree. Morven could see the question in Arthur's face even before the king motioned to Merlin. "Hawks can be fickle creatures, Sire." He motioned to the sack on Arthur's belt. "Try offering her some food," he suggested. "The desire for food is the basis for bonding a hawk to its trainer."

Arthur dug into the small sack and produced a small strip of meat. Frio's eyes detached from Merlin to stare at the meat with a glitter in her eye, but she would not forsake Merlin's arm. She extended her legs and bent forward nearly at a ninety-degree angle, her wings outstretched; reaching for the meat held in Arthur's hand, her claws digging further into Merlin's arm and drawing blood. Finally, the warlock winced and yelped quietly. Arthur looked down, spotting the patch of his sleeve that was beginning to turn dark from the liquid.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" He looked at Morven. "Call him to you, Morven. She's about to take the moron's arm off." Morven looked slightly mortified at the request, but when Arthur smiled at him, he seemed to relax. He let out another series of clicks and Frio reluctantly launched off of Merlin's arm and landed on Morven's free one. Colsweart hunched down and glared at Frio again.

Merlin let out a breath the instant the bird left his arm. He clutched it to his stomach for a moment before Arthur grabbed his wrist and pulled back the jacket to reveal a row of six rather deep punctures on the servant's forearm. "You really are an idiot, Merlin. Go get patched up." He pointed at the castle and Merlin begrudgingly headed off the field. Arthur suddenly turned and called, "And tell Gaius that Edlyn has requested a draft to help with the aches from her long journey!" Merlin nodded and jogged off to Gaius' chambers.

As Merlin left, Arthur sighed and turned back to Morven. "I apologize for my servant. Whether or not I myself succeed at training Frio Niman, I am honored by your gift." Arthur placed a hand on his heart and bowed his head a little to Morven.

Morven nodded back. "She seems to like your servant quite a bit," he chuckled.

Arthur shrugged. "He's always seemed to have an affinity for animals. The horses like him and he hates hunting. Feels sorry for the prey I suppose."

Morven clicked at Frio again and the bird hopped over to Arthur's arm which only just rose in time. "I am sure she will warm to you in time," said Morven. Arthur nodded at him and offered the earlier piece of meat to Frio. She took it and tore at it happily. "Hawks raised by my tribe are highly intelligent, Sire. They can sense a kind soul."

Arthur smiled at Morven. "What, I don't have a kind soul?" he joked.

Morven chuckled. "If you didn't have a kind soul, Arthur Pendragon, no number of clicks or commands could have convinced Frio Niman to perch on your arm."

Another hour passed before Merlin was ready to leave for the hunt, his arm bandaged and the bleeding stemmed. He got the horses from the stables and headed to meet the king and Morven in the courtyard. Colsweart walking along behind Morven with his head tucked between his wings and glaring daggers at Frio Niman who was held on the man's left arm. The instant the servant turned the corner, Frio lunged away from her perch. The man held a powerful hold on one of her feet, and she wound up dangling beneath his hand cooing at him with agitation. The horses whinnied and fidgeted at the sight of the large flapping thing and the black mare even reared back a little. A stable hand dashed over to take the reins of two of them and attempted to calm them as Arthur jogged over to take his horse from Merlin.

"She really likes you, it seems," said Arthur, patting his stallion's neck. "Can't imagine why."

"She sees my true value," answered Merlin, puffing out his chest.

Arthur laughed and punched Merlin in the side gently. The servant doubled over and looked up to his king with a smile on his face. "I think it's because you look a little like a bird." He pointed at Merlin's nose and then motioned to the man's high cheekbones. "Maybe like a chicken… probably wants to eat you."

Merlin stood straight and crossed his arms. "Maybe she just doesn't like cabbage."

Arthur took a swing at him, but Merlin jogged out of the way and toward Morven, who had finally managed to get Frio upright again. She cooed at Merlin happily.

"She'll apparently have no other today, Merlin," he laughed. He bobbed his head at the large sack behind his feet. "Grab some hide from the bag. We'll not have you bleeding again."

Morven clicked at Frio and she begrudgingly lifted gently off of the hide covered arm and floated gently down to the ground where Colsweart continued his glare at her. With both hands freed, Morven tied the leather strings around Merlin's thin arm. Merlin found himself glad that the druid had not worn his cape as the effects of the gem- whatever it was- were bad enough when there was some distance between them. He wasn't sure he wanted it this close to him.

Even with that presence still leaning on his senses he couldn't help but smile at Morven. There was something gentle about the man- he sort of reminded him of Balinor. His eyes were old and filled with experience and the way he handled the birds infected Merlin with a warmth he hadn't expected.

Once the guard had been secured to Merlin's arm, Frio wasted no time in hopping onto it. She looked at him, cocking her head to one side, before moving to rub her head against his temple and coo softly. Merlin had to stop a rather unmanly giggle from leaving his mouth. The affection was short-lived as Frio seemed to find something else to look at, but her feathers tickled and her coo was adorable.

Arthur was already on his brown stallion as Morven finished strapping the sack of meat to Merlin's hip. He came up behind his servant and thwacked him across the back of his head with a glove he had removed. "Stop playing with the bird and mount up, Merlin, we're ready to leave."

Merlin looked around to where Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Leon were already settled on their horses and were watching him with amusement. Morven stood and clicked at Colsweart who followed him as he heaved himself into the saddle. Merlin quickly joined them and the group set off at a canter, the two birds flying behind them.

The woods were very quiet for midday. Merlin could still feel the magic in the air trembling as it continued to brace itself for something. He attempted to pay it no mind and simply focused on the conversation around him and on Frio who occasionally swooped down to land on his arm, squeak a few times, and take off again.

"It's like she's reporting to you, Merlin," laughed Leon.

"You've finally found someone to command, Merlin," teased Arthur. "God knows you can barely command your own feet most of the time."

"I'm sorry," scoffed Merlin. "Who was it that she fled from?"

There were a few coos among the knights at the banter followed by some subdued chuckles.

Arthur pursed his lips and smiled. "She wasn't fleeing from me, Merlin. She's just drawn to you because she thinks you're a meal. Or perhaps a girl."

Frio swooped in and landed on Merlin's arm again, completely oblivious to the conversation and looked around proudly from her perch. As though to proclaim something, she gave a loud cry and took off again, circling with Colsweart. The black bird seemed to have forsaken his previous animosity for Frio.

"Oh, so you think that Morven's a girl as well?" suggested Merlin.

The druid was riding slightly behind Arthur and was listening to the banter with a slight smile, but he tried to look disconnected when his name was mentioned.

"Of course not. He's been training with Colsweart for many years. The two of them seem like family, the way they communicate."

Merlin had to consent that to the king. The way Morven and Colsweart moved about each other was impressive, as though all one had to do was think and the other would respond. The clicks seemed almost to be an afterthought.

"He has a point there Merlin," laughed Percival.

Merlin shook his head and turned his eyes skyward, watching as the hawks dipped and rose in the sky. "Nah. He's just jealous."

"Why would anyone be jealous of _you_?" asked Arthur.

Merlin ignored the continuing conversation as he stared at Frio, finding himself getting lost in the way she moved through the air. And then something happened that he couldn't quite explain. It was as though information was shoved into his mind, unbidden. He suddenly knew something he hadn't before; something he could picture and nearly see. He pulled his horse to a stop and was a bit surprised when Frio swooped in to land on his arm.

The knights behind him stopped as well and it took a few paces for Arthur and Morven to catch on and stop as well. All eyes turned to Merlin, who was staring intently at a thick grove of bushes several yards away from the roadside. It was difficult not to also notice the position of Frio Niman on Merlin's arm. The bird almost matched the slant of Merlin's body as he leaned and squinted in his saddle. Her wings were spread and her legs tensed, her beak open but no sound emerging.

"Merlin, what on earth are you doing?" Arthur demanded, turning his stallion round and looking at him. The horse danced impatiently beneath him.

"There's a hare in that bush there," said Merlin quietly, not really minding that it sounded a little odd.

The knights, the king, and even Morven turned a little to look at the bush but saw no movement or sign that any life was within it. They looked at Merlin and Frio, who had not moved, with raised eyebrows.

Without warning, a black bolt shot into the brush and a small cry was heard. Colsweart emerged from the bushes, hauling up a decent sized hare. He flew it to Morven and presented it proudly to his master. Morven smiled and rewarded the bird with a slice of meat.

Frio closed her wings and shuffled a little on Merlin's arm before cooing and looking expectantly at him. The warlock consented and handed her a slice of meat as well. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"You get stranger every day, Merlin," said Arthur. "How on earth did you know that was there?"

Merlin straightened a little in his saddle and puffed his chest out. "I guess I'm getting good at hunting."

"Yeah," laughed Arthur, turning his horse back down the path. "That'll be the day."

The singular hare was the only thing caught on the hunting trip. After a few hours passed with no game, the trip had turned into a simple ride through some of the trails as Arthur and Morven got to know one another. Arthur shared several traditions of Camelot, bragging about their jousting events and tourneys. Morven spoke fondly of his tribe. The druids in the south were very dedicated to the training and breeding of these magnificent creatures not only as a way to feed themselves, but also as a way of life. Merlin could easily tell that there was a spiritual relationship between the birds and their masters, beyond the symbiotic relationship that was easy to see. The two formed a single entity to the point that one could almost not exist without the other.

"How long do they live?" asked Arthur, looking at Colsweart who had settled down between Morven's legs and the horse's neck.

Morven idly stroked Colsweart's head as he spoke. "Few see more than 20 winters. This will be Colsweart's twelfth," he added with a smile. He looked to the sky and caught a glimpse of Frio as she dove in between the trees. "Frio Niman has only just reached adulthood. This will be her second."

"She certainly seems to have more energy than Colsweart," remarked Gwaine, his eyes also sweeping the trees for the younger bird.

"What happens when they die?" asked Merlin quietly. Arthur resisted the urge to slap the servant for his tactless question, but Morven smiled sadly and stroked Colsweart again.

"There is a tradition in my village. When one of our partners dies or is killed, its trainer must spend five years in mourning before he is permitted to bond with another bird. He will learn to cook and care for the village until he is ready to hunt again." He looked to Merlin. "Each bird is given a ceremony and a proper burial, as a symbol to the passing of time." He reached down the top of his tunic and produced a black string. Tied into the necklace was a large bird's talon. "A talon is taken from the fallen bird and we wear it to honor their memory. This is from my partner of many years, Atglaem."

_'Beauty'._ Merlin smiled the thought of the name. How could he have possibly thought that a man with that much warmth in his voice could mean harm upon Camelot?

"You were saying 'he'," noticed Arthur. "Is Hawking only for men, then? Is that why Edlyn hasn't joined us?"

Morven's face took on a strange tension when his sister's name came up but he forced a smile. "Oh no. We have many great women hunters. Edlyn just doesn't get along with the birds is all."

Merlin couldn't help but suspect that was hardly the entire story.

The sun was just setting when the group returned to Camelot. As Merlin dismounted, Frio hopped along behind him on her talons, drawing the stares of several of the nobles in the courtyard. It amused the warlock. She followed him around as he cleaned and hung the saddles and then watered and fed the horses. As he turned to leave he found Morven heading into the stables with Colsweart perched on a device attached to his shoulder. The item was strapped tightly to Morven's chest like a voider, and it was made out of hide. The shape was akin to a long thin saddle so that Colsweart's feet could wrap firmly around it.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked.

Morven shook his head. "No, but if it is alright with you, I would like to have Colsweart sleep on the roof of the stables. The hay up there should provide comfortable bedding, and it will keep him from frightening the horses."

Merlin nodded with a smile. "Of course." He opened his mouth to say more when he suddenly felt weight come down on his head. He dared not move it once he felt talons come gently down to rest on his brow. Frio was balancing on the crown of Merlin's head, and she was obviously paying attention to where she put her sharp talons. A hand flew up to cover Morven's mouth, but Merlin could see him struggling not to laugh at the sight.

"That's strange," he finally said.

"Just a little," offered Merlin. He held out his arm and Frio hopped down onto it. "I have no idea what to say to that." Morven shrugged. "So how do I get her onto the roof to sleep?"

Morven offered an arm. "I can take her up there."

Before he could click at her, Frio turned her eyes to Merlin and took flight from his arm and out the stable doors. When Morven and Merlin found her, she had begun to nestle into a small pile of the hay which covered the top of the stone building.

Merlin looked to the druid. "How'd she know to go up there?"

Morven stared at the warlock like he had sprouted an extra head. "I'm not sure."

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Merlin retreated to his quarters to find Gaius reading at Dayla's bedside. "I heard you had an interesting day," chuckled Gaius.

"You heard about the birds?" Merlin asked, a smile on his face.

Gaius returned the smile, feeling as though he could breathe a little better. He hadn't seen a genuine smile on Merlin for at least a week. It was nice to know that the bird had cheered him up this much. "I did, and you can tell me all about it once you've run an errand for me." He stood and grabbed a small bottle of yellow-ish liquid from the table. "I need you to take this to Edlyn's chambers. It will help with the aching from her journey."

Merlin nodded and jogged off to his task. The hallways were mostly empty as the palace wound down for the day, pulling curtains shut, retreating to quarters, heading for home, or in Arthur's case retreating to the library. Merlin headed to the guest rooms and rapped on the large door which lead into the temporary room of Edlyn and Morven. Edlyn answered almost immediately and smiled kindly at him.

Merlin extended the potion to her. "This is from the court physician. This should help with the aches you've been feeling."

She took it and nodded at him. "Thank you. It is very kind. I am not used to such long trips on horseback," she said with a small wince.

Merlin laughed. "I know that feeling," he said, rubbing his back a little.

"Please give the physician my gratitude... uhh..." She motioned to him to provide his name.

Merlin paused. Did she not know who he was? Merlin was far from indignant or outraged that the woman didn't seem to recognize him, but he found it strange. Finally, he managed to answer. "Merlin."

She smiled again. "Merlin," she finished. "You share the name with a falcon trained by my village." Merlin didn't answer, his suspicion piqued, but he tried to look interested. "They are small, but fast and powerful. A lovely name."

Merlin thanked her and quickly excused himself. Why had Edlyn not recognized him as Emrys?

~ooOoo~

Under the light of a small lamp, Arthur strained his eyes to see the passage that Geoffrey helped him translate.

_And Taliesin said, 'They shall turn to wicked ways, forsaking the ancient laws and customs. For this deed their vision shall be taken and they shall not know him. For even if they look into his eyes, they shall not know that Emrys stands before them.'_

* * *

1: I know that the term for this kind of sport is called falconry, but apparently in old England, it was referred to as Hawking.

I've been having way too much fun researching falconry for this story. And to any of you who know falconry or birds in general, I am well aware that the relationship between a bird and its falconer doesn't really go deeper than food. The bird is not a friend to the falconer. In this story, I made them more intelligent along the lines of a cat or a dog.

Raised by druids.

Magik

Alright, I'll hopefully see you soon!


	7. His Worries

I'm glad the hawking was a hit. :) I really liked that part. For anyone who was wondering what these birds are actually looked like, Colsweart is a black Ferruginous Hawk, Frio Niman is a Rough-Legged Buzzard, and Morven's previous companion, Atglaem, was a red-tailed hawk. These are such magnificent birds the only distraction I have sustained away from this story was to research these guys. So beautiful!

So my writing frenzy continues. I had a little trouble last night after the announcement, but I can't seem to stop today, lol. I am following CaptainOzone's advice and posting these suckers as soon as I finish them. I'm actually near the end of chapter 8. Not sure if I'll post more than one in a day, though. We'll see.

So we're up to the seventh chapter already and I hope you guys are ready because things are about to take off like mad.

**Reviewer Responses**

flyaway213: Yay! I like it when people run around in my brain-splosions!

Sapphire Wing: I think there would wind up being mass murder if they didn't give us something of a magic reveal. XD But yeah, the part that I want to see is the results, not just the reveal itself.

Mediatrix: Well, here's the thing about the series ending... as a writer I really thing there is a shortage of people who understand the integrity of a plotline. A plotline is something that has a distinct beginning, middle, and end that are planned on from the conception of the idea, even if the stuff in between changes. When you stretch that story beyond the ending, you wind up with tripe. If the writers are the ones that are ending it, I think it means that the story has come to its end and I respect them for drawing a line. Besides! Rumor has it that a trilogy of movies is planned! If the reveal is at the end of season 5, that means the movies will be the results that I so desperately want! :/

Funus Nex: Ohh, they're druids. :3

CaptainOzone: Oooh, was it epic? Sweet! And don't worry. I'm kind of fond of Morven myself. The hawking idea actually came from a friend of mine. Tom is always my go-to dude when my brain is stuck. He's pretty good at giving it a good booting.

DifferentShirley: Oh Frio isn't going anywhere. I love writing for her. She's so crazy. XD

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Thank ya! :D

1983Sarah: The interaction with Edlyn was actually not originally planned. Merlin originally noticed that Morven didn't seem to recognize him. But when I wrote the scene, Morven and Merlin were never away from Arthur and so even if Morven had recognized him, he wouldn't have said something. I found it to be a good opportunity to introduce her character.

shadow visor: Oh, you'll have to wait and seeeeeeee. :3

Ash9: He does! He's so stressed and sad. I wanna give him a hug... and maybe a kiss... and maybe some other things. I wuv you, Colin! *AHEM* Sorry... Oh and don't think I was depressed. You should see the skype conversation I had with my sister. Lots of choice words. But I felt better after some yelling and some... um... wine. And rant all you like. *shakes fist* We're all in this together!

servant123: I'm glad! :D

I don't own Merlin and here we go!

* * *

"AHH! Merlin!"

Merlin leaped out of bed, his feet tangling in the sheets and sending him flat on his face. He scrambled to his feet and down the steps into the Physician's chambers to be met with a face-full of feathers. Frio Niman cooed at him. He had to place his hands on her belly and lift her away from his face to see past her.

Gaius had managed to wedge himself between two shelving units behind his bed, staring wide-eyed at the large bird. After her initial greeting, Frio hopped to the floor and began to look around the room. Merlin rushed to his guardian, helped him away from the wall, and settled him back into his bed.

"Uhh, Gaius, this is Frio Niman. She was the gift that the druids brought for Arthur," said Merlin smiling and motioning to the bird.

Gaius stared at the bird for a moment before looking back to Merlin. "If she's Arthur's bird, what's she doing in my chambers?"

Merlin shrugged. "She seems attached to me for some reason." Not that he really minded. Frio was a beautiful creature.

Gaius shrugged and some of the terror drained from his face. "Well, that makes sense, I suppose." He watched the bird move along the tables with a grace he didn't think a bird her size could posses; as though she were deliberately avoiding upending his work. "Your magic is as natural as it comes. She must be drawn to it like a beacon." He eyed her. She was avoiding making a mess, but his work-area was hardly a place for animals; let alone such a large one.

Merlin's face fell and he pulled a stool up next to Gaius' bed. Frio perked up, her black eyes swiveling to stare at the warlock. She hopped to the floor and scurried over to him before perching herself on his thigh. Merlin noticed that she seemed- once again- to be gentle with the placement of her talons. Like she had the night before, she was careful not to dig them through the fabric of his trousers. Merlin idly rubbed Frio's chest as he spoke. "I need to tell you about something that happened last night Gaius."

Gaius leaned away from Frio, but did his best to focus on Merlin's words. When he looked into Merlin's eyes he was taken aback by the amount of turmoil they held. "What is it?"

"It happened last night when I took Edlyn her draft," Merlin began, his hand moving from Frio's chest to the top of her head. "She didn't recognize me."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Merlin shook his head. "She didn't know who I was. She had to ask me my name, she didn't seem to know I was Emrys."

Gaius' face fell more than Merlin had expected. The warlock had found it strange, but Gaius looked rather disturbed by the idea. After a moment of silence, Merlin tilted his head to look Gaius in the eye. "Gaius? What's wrong?"

Gaius looked up and took Merlin's free hand in his. "Merlin, you must be wary." Merlin raised an eyebrow. "It is said that the followers of Myrddin were punished for turning their backs on the ancient laws. When they turned to dark magic, they were stripped of their true vision. They could no long recognize Emrys, or any other warlock."

The fact that Edlyn had not known him may have made him suspicious, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of evil druids either. "How could they be evil though, Gaius?" he asked, looking down at Frio. "The way Morven handled the birds. Without that gem on his cloak, all I feel from him is... warmth."

"I'm only telling you what I know," said Gaius.

Merlin nodded and stood after a moment, dumping Frio to the ground. She hopped around his feet, now investigating the area around Gaius' bed. The physician did not fail to notice and leaned away from her again. Before Merlin could leave, Gaius grabbed his wrist. "Be careful, Merlin. Peace between Camelot and the druids could be the first step to reaching a land free for magic. The druids could very well defeat those hopes if something goes wrong. Keep an eye on them, but whatever you do, you must do it delicately."

"I don't think talking to the druids is a good idea," blurted Merlin suddenly, pausing in his tidying of Arthur's chambers to stand straight as a post.

Arthur slowly looked over at his servant from where he was relaxing in a bath. It took him a moment to process the comment. "Well that came from nowhere," he mused, deciding to completely ignore the content of Merlin's outburst.

Merlin took a step toward the tub where Arthur was bathing. "I'm serious Arthur. Something isn't right with them."

"The druids and Camelot have a long history, Merlin. Meeting like this isn't overtly comfortable for anyone," answered the king, stretching his arms.

Merlin huffed quietly. This was far from the first time this had happened. How many times had he found himself in possession of information that could prevent an assassination attempt or a plan to overthrow Arthur, but had no way of convincing the king that his concern was valid? Gaius knew not to ignore his intuition, and sometimes Merlin wished he could tell Arthur all if only to convince the man that his instincts were to be listened to.

"Why would the druids suddenly turn up wanting peace? You know as well as I what Uther did to them." As soon as it was out of his mouth, Merlin regretted the statement.

Arthur looked at his servant with eyes filled with anger and barely-hidden pain. Bringing up the man's father was probably not the best idea in this instance, Merlin figured.

"I know exactly what my father did to them, Merlin. The fact that they are even interested in forming an alliance with this kingdom is staggering. I'll not waste this opportunity just because you have a funny feeling," Arthur snapped.

Merlin sighed and turned back to finish straightening the bedclothes. He was well aware of what these talks could mean to Arthur. It was more than simply a step toward the land he dreamed of; this was a chance for him to fulfill a vow he had made on his knees before the spirit of a slain boy. Merlin's thoughts turned to the sight of his king begging for forgiveness and the sincerity of his words.

But no matter how much he wanted this for Arthur, Morven and Edlyn were not here to make peace. Merlin would have to investigate alone (as usual, he groaned).

"And will you get that bird out of here?!" cried Arthur, startling Merlin out of his reverie. The king pointed an accusing finger at the windowsill where Frio was happily perched. She eyed the water and Arthur leaned away from her gaze as though he feared she would try to join him.

Merlin chuckled at the king's reaction and looked to Frio. He certainly didn't know any command to force her to do anything. Perhaps he could ask Morven to take her hunting.

Before his thoughts went any further, Frio had spun in place and dropped out the window.

Arthur smiled and leaned back in the tub, satisfied that his authoritative voice had been the cause of the bird's departure. He soaked in silence as Merlin slowly returned to tidying his master's room. Merlin's mind whirrled. With the handicap of not disrupting the potential peace between the kingdom and the druids, how was Merlin to discover and stop whatever ill they could possibly have planned. But each time he thought of Morven, he couldn't help but remember the fond smile he wore when Colsweart was perched on his arm, or when he spoke of his home.

After a while longer of relaxing, Arthur finally stood from his bath and toweled himself off. He stared at the silent Merlin for a moment and sighed. "You know how I hate your silence, Merlin," he grumbled. Merlin sent a glare at the naked king. "Then again, your prattle is almost as bad." Merlin rolled his eyes and wandered to the bed to help him dress. After a moment, Arthur smirked and asked, "Are you upset that I've yelled at your new friend?"

Merlin couldn't help but smile at that. He shook his head. "No. Your anger is expected; a gift to the king preferring the company of a servant. Must be a bit embarrassing for you." He wasn't soon going to let the king live that down.

Arthur shrugged. "Can't help it if the poor girl's got bad taste."

"She's probably driven away by the air of pompous you have about you," suggested Merlin, waving a hand at the king's face. He was rewarded with a smack across the back of his head.

"You're lucky she prefers stupid and lazy," laughed Arthur. He swung his cape over his shoulders and Merlin latched it in front. After checking himself in the mirror for a moment, he took his sword and belt from Merlin and began to buckle it. "I'll be in council meetings for most of the day as we prepare for the peace talks with the druids and then I am meeting with Morven in the evening so you're at Gaius' disposal once you've polished my armor, sharpened my sword, and laundered my clothes."

Merlin nodded, and to Arthur's surprise offered no complaint about the chores. Arthur seemed to relent and placed a hand on his servant's shoulder. "Your advice has been useful in the past, Merlin. But right now, forming peace with the druids is too important to let anything get in the way of it."

Merlin nodded. "I understand, Sire." He met the king's eyes, and Arthur paused at the sincerity in them. "Be careful, Arthur."

Arthur patted the side of his face and laughed. "Careful?" He turned and began to leave his room. "I assume you mean careful not to fall asleep."

Merlin smiled at the familiarity and headed to finish his assigned chores. He meandered through them, half aware of what he was doing. The activities were so routine that he hardly had to concentrate to do them. It appeared as though Frio had plans to follow him throughout the day, and so before he began the last of his duties, he stopped in his chambers to retrieve the small sack that had carried meat from the day before as well as the hide, lace, and gloves. He got some meat from the kitchens (more like stole some meat, the cook was not pleased to see him), slipped it into the bag, and headed to the armory. Sure enough, Frio suddenly appeared in the window and cooed at him. He smiled at her and she began her ritual of inspecting everything in the room. Merlin hoped the animal had the sense to not cut herself with anything.

He paused in his sharpening of the king's sword. As soon as the thought had entered his mind, Frio backed away from a sword in which she had been examining her reflection.

He set the sword and stone to the side and lowered himself to the floor in front of her as she ruffled her feathers and shook her body. "Can you understand me?" he asked. The bird looked at him and cocked her head to one side. After a moment, she resumed her wandering around the room and Merlin felt suddenly happy that no knights had been around to see him talking to the bird.

Once the sword was adequately sharpened, Merlin headed to Gaius' chambers to fetch the list of herbs he was meant to collect. Frio hobbled along the ground after him, once flying to to perch on his shoulder. Merlin laughed at this. She was large enough that he had to lean his head to one side, and even then she wobbled as her feet were placed far to one side beneath her. She abandoned this effort soon after.

Before he headed for the front gates of the city, he decided to head to the training grounds again, hoping to find Morven there. Instead, he spotted the queen, staring up into the sky. He smiled as he approached her.

"Gwen, what are you doing here?" he asked.

She turned and smiled at him. "I was on my way to the lower towns, and I thought I'd stop by. I was hoping to see some of the birds that the druids brought. I heard about them last night from Arthur."

Merlin turned and motioned to the large animal walking around behind him. "Well, this is Frio Niman."

Guinevere's jaw dropped and Merlin smiled at the way the queen dropped down to sit on her feet, no regard for anyone that might see the wife of the king kneeling on the ground in front of a servant. Frio perked up when Gwen knelt, walking cautiously over to her and examining her with her large black eyes.

"She's gorgeous," whispered Gwen, almost to herself. Merlin nodded. She was that.

After a moment, Frio began to hop around Gwen, examining her from every angle. Merlin handed her the gloves (which sat rather large on her hands), and then a strip of meat. Frio perked up the minute it exited the bag. She scurried around to Gwen's front and cooed at her. Gwen giggled and slowly held it out to the bird, not entirely sure what would happen. As Frio moved, Merlin decided to try something out.

_You should be gentle_, he thought. It did not feel like speaking to the druids, where his thoughts almost seemed to hitch on something to prove it had been received. Nevertheless, Frio gently pulled the meat from between her fingers and put it on the ground to tear at it, mantling (1) her wings as she ate.

Merlin smiled along with Gwen, but it was hardly for the same reason. In some way, he seemed to be able to communicate with the bird. Gwen stood and handed the glove back to Merlin. She seemed a little jittery, but she was beaming. "Hopefully I can get used to that."

Merlin nodded and as Gwen turned her attention back to Frio- who began to stare at her for more food once she had swallowed the last of her treat- he said, "Haven't seen you the last few days. You been busy?" he asked.

Gwen nodded. "Elde and I have been making a gift for Edlyn. They brought us such a fine present that we thought it proper to make something of our culture for her to take back to her tribe." Deciding she was not getting another slice of meat, Frio began to look around the field and finally launched into the air, beginning a wide sweep of the many training areas that populated the side of the palace.

"Oh?" Despite his trepidation about the two, whenever peace was truly attained between the two parties (because there was not a doubt in Merlin's mind that Arthur could achieve such a thing) Camelot would be well-prepared.

Gwen turned to look in the direction of the lower town. "You probably don't know this, but the craftsmen in the lower town have something of a reputation for creating beautiful bead-work." Merlin had to admit he didn't. Arthur's wardrobe had little call for beading. She motioned to herself. "They crafted several of my dresses... and Morgana's before me." Her voice trailed off sadly at the mention of her former mistress's name. But she perked right back up. "We have decided to give Edlyn a sample of our fine silk and beading. I'm not sure what they have in mind for Morven, but I also know they are sending them home with an impressive example of our crops and metal-workings."

Merlin had to say he was impressed with the extent to which Arthur was going, though not surprised. In the king's mind, he had a lot to make up for. He would not be persuaded by Merlin or anyone else that what Uther had done was not his fault. Showing the druids what the kingdom had available to trade would be a good start.

"I'm sure it will be well-received." Merlin gulped. He could tell that even Gwen noticed his statement had been a little forced. "Have you then been spending time with Edlyn?" He felt mildly guilty; attempting to garner information from Gwen. The queen nodded and squinted to the skies, looking for Frio. "What's she like?"

Gwen looked back to him. "She seems pleasant enough. She's a little difficult to get to know, though."

Merlin tried to ignore the warning bells that sounded in his head. He had to convince himself that each and every possible detractor from the druids' personality was not a signal that they were plotting against the kingdom. "How so?"

Gwen motioned to the air between them. "It's like there is a wall around her. A lot of people have barriers to get past when you first meet them, but she seems to have erected a fortress around herself." She sighed sadly. "I think she is so wounded by this kingdom it was difficult for her to make this journey."

Merlin nodded and began to repeatedly tell his subconscious that it was a perfectly valid explanation.

The servant shuffled his satchel on his shoulder,bade the queen farewell, and headed now to the front gates of the city to head into the woods. He looked to the skies and Frio was following him from above.

As he walked down a path that would take him into the forest, he was almost bowled over by a horse. He heard a gasp as the rider spun the horse around and walked back to the servant. It was Edlyn. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Merlin," she said breathlessly.

Merlin smiled and readjusted his satchel. "No harm done." He opened his mouth to say more, but a sudden screech cut him off. When he saw Frio rapidly descending, he held out his arm and allowed her to land. The bird did not close her wings, leaving them spread, and hunched her head down between them. Her beak was open wide, but no sound came from it. Merlin thought she looked ready to hiss if she had the capability. She shifted from one leg to the other and her black eyes were trained on Edlyn's every move.

"That's odd," muttered Merlin, moving his eyes from the bird to Edlyn. Like in the forest the day before, information was suddenly deposited into his mind. His eyes widened at the sight of the mounted woman.

"Not really," answered Edlyn. "The birds have never been particularly fond of me."

Merlin barely heard her speak. The image was hardly something he saw with his eyes, but it was almost as though he pictured it clearly enough in his mind to change the way he saw her. As though some sort of fire had been lit beneath her, black smoke was coming off the woman in thin waves. She didn't seem to notice anything save the change in Merlin's expression.

"Merlin? Are you alright?" she asked, leaning toward him.

Merlin nodded and backed up a little. "Oh, yes. I'm fine, My Lady."

Edlyn seemed to forget the odd moment and smiled. "I'm hardly a 'Lady' here, Merlin."

Merlin nodded quickly and spat out a farewell before retreating hastily into the forest. Frio calmed down, shuffling on his arm and shaking herself. Once finished, she stood tall on his arm, puffing out her chest and clearly indicating that she figured she deserved a treat for her behavior. After a moment, he relented and handed her a piece of meat.

"I think you just showed me something, Frio," said Merlin, staring back at where Edlyn had disappeared back toward the castle.

Merlin spent the rest of the day wandering about the woods and collecting the herbs on his list. Frio bobbed and weaved through the trees, once dropping down on some sort of small rodent and spending a while eating it. The smoke had been as much of a feeling as an idea. His stomach churned relentlessly and his breath caught in his throat. That same oppressive feeling that had assaulted him in the throne room at their first meeting pushed down on him, but far stronger than it had before.

Whatever Morven was, Merlin's doubts about Edlyn strengthened.

It was well past sundown when Merlin collected his last herb and made his way to Gaius' chambers again. Frio took off to nestle herself on the roof of the stables. Gaius smiled at the full satchel that Merlin presented to him. "Thank you, my boy. I'll need several trips out of you before the winter sets in."

"Sounds like fun," said Merlin sarcastically. He was about to head to his room when the door suddenly burst open. Both occupants jumped as Leon and Percival charged in.

Merlin put a hand to his chest. "Geez, guys," he laughed. "Trying to stop my heart?"

The two knights said nothing and overtook Merlin instantly. Each knight established a powerful grip on one of his arms and turned him back toward the door. Merlin struggled a little, almost convinced this was a joke.

"Leon? What's this about?" he asked. His mind was panicking more and more as he got closer to the door.

"Leon, Percival, what is the meaning of this?" demanded Gaius.

The knights stopped and Leon whipped around to stare at Gaius. "You are not to speak of this to anyone or you will also be thrown in jail, Gaius." Gaius gaped like a fish for a moment, but nodded. He looked to the back of his ward's head as he struggled to free himself from the knight's firm holds.

Finally, Leon spoke directly to the servant. "Merlin, by order of the king, you are under arrest for sorcery."

* * *

1: Mantling is what a bird will do when they catch something. They droop their wings down as they eat to hide the food from any other bird that might want to steal their meal.

Sorry for the cliffhanger. Again, I had to split a massive section into two parts.

Review and tell me what you think! See you soon!


	8. His Discovery

Sooo... writing frenzy still going strong. I felt bad for leaving you guys on a cliffhanger, specifically since I had chapter 8 already written. I actually just finished writing chapter 9, but I want to get at least a little bit ahead before I post it. Lol.

Once again, thank you for all your reviews. You are the fuel to my continuous writing!

**Reviewer Responses**

Healed535: Cause it would be too long! XD That and I hadn't really done a really nasty cliffhanger yet. I thought we were due for one.

Ugla: Yay! :)

GeorgiaEmrys1D: Oh cliffies. They do horrible things to us. I sorry.

flyaway213: XD I am a horrible person. You should see what I do to my characters in my original stories. I've accepted that as a writer... you really have to be a terrible terrible person. *mwahahahaha* :3

Mediatrix: Had to. Completely. Buckets and buckets of 'had to'.

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: I apologize. I know there hasn't been magic used and such, but that's cause I'm saving it up for the second part of the story. THERE WILL BE BADASSERY!

Morena Evensong: Thank you! :) I'm glad you remember Dayla. And I am doing the same. Fill my head with fanfics so I don't realize that it will soon all be coming to an end.

1983Sarah: Yeah... they seem to get it wrong a lot. They tend to constantly arrest people for sorcery... who haven't done any sorcery.

reading-rider: It is my way of coping, I suppose. lol. And no problem! Thanks for reading it!

Merlin fan: No! No heart attacks! Defibrulator!

EchoRose480: Yes! Intrigue! Slightly-more-aware-of-the-world-around-him Arthur! And- aww, you think? *squee/blush*

CaptainOzone: Yay for baffleness (word? Oo) And I'm glad you like Frio. I like her too. You should look up the Rough-Legged Buzzards on google. They're gorgeous!

shadow visor: Really! Yay! I love it when I can surprise people!

Ash9: Well, there was a reason that Arthur called Leon and Percival. He knows that Percival may have his bonds with everyone, but he is the closest to an outside party in the knights. Leon has been a knight far longer than the others and Arthur knows that he is loyal to the kingdom and that will always come first. Arthur knew that the two of them would do what he said and he could trust them not to blab about it. Elyan and Gwaine are a little too close to it.

servant123: XD Sorry! There didn't seem to be this many cliffies when I was writing it. Maybe I just have low writer's-esteem, LOL. I want to make sure everyone comes back so I leave you hanging... I really am a terrible person. XD *rubs hands together*

I don't own Merlin, and here we go!

* * *

_Finally, Leon spoke directly to the servant. "Merlin, by order of the king, you are under arrest for sorcery."_

_**Earlier that day.**.._

Arthur had long believed Merlin to be something of a weakling, a girl, and even a coward on some occasions. But he had never imagined him as an old fogey. But he couldn't help but think back to Merlin's words in his chambers and imagine him as just that as he watched the councilmen bicker. The council members seemed to have suspicion somewhere in the realm of Merlin's (not that he would ever tell the servant that someone else agreed with his 'feelings'), and the king now sat in his chair, his chin held on his mouth and the other placed on the table in boredom as the old men battled it out among themselves.

"We can hardly trust magical folk to speak of peace with Camelot," cried Lord Thelred, standing from his seat. The youngest of the council members aside from the king himself, he had been known for his avid support of Uther. "They plot the ruin of our kingdom."

"If the do seek conflict with us," argued Geoffrey, "it is because they have been so persecuted by Uther's hand! Peace cannot be attained without the cooperation of every faction within the kingdom."

"Then we drive the druids out!" announced Lord Warwick. "If peace can truly not be attained without their cooperation, it would be much wiser to simply relocate them."

Arthur finally spoke, not moving his position. "They will not be forced from their ancestral homes, Warwick," he snapped. The lord stood straight and cast a wary glare at the king. "Forcing them to leave will only further antagonize them."

"Why risk the danger of peace talks, My Lord?" pleaded Thelred, his voice full of honey. "Our forces far outmatch that of the druids. We can easily drive them from our kingdom."

"As I've said before, my decision to pursue peace talks with the druids is final. My father's persecution of the druids was excessive and unjust." A deadly silence fell over the council as though they questioned their own ears. "They are peaceful, and we are to treat them with respect."

Lord Montague nodded. "It is likely that the kingdom will profit from this alliance in trade alone. Who knows what the druids have to offer?"

Arthur leaned on the edge of the table. "We cannot simply dismiss them because they are magic. That was my father's mistake. They deserve to live their lives as much as any of our citizens. I have learned well that lesson."

The group fell silent again. Finally, a hand was raised opposite Arthur where sat the two most senior members of the council who had been murmuring between themselves for some time; Lord Ellard and Lord Thurstan. Lord Ellard spoke first. "We have seen the war against magic rage since the beginning of the Great Purge. We have seen the devastation that magic can wreak, even in the hands of the meek."

Lord Thurstan nodded. "In the name of your father, Arthur, we implore you; do not do this."

Arthur thought for a moment, but he was hardly considering their objections. "This meeting was held to discuss how to proceed with the formation of a truce with the druids. That decision will not be withdrawn." He looked to the window where the sun was beginning to set. An entire day of wasted breath and he now had nothing to report to Morven later. He growled under his breath and stood. "I am obliged to remind you, that I am king of Camelot. You are my council meant to advise me. If you do not wish to offer your advice upon matters which I have already decided, I shall make the decision without it." The air in the room tensed heavily, but Arthur didn't sense shame so much as anger. He wanted the council to have a say in the matter, but it seems as though they were more interested in endlessly arguing.

He stood and dismissed the lot of them, rubbing his eyes and stretching the moment they left the room. He motioned to one of the guards. "Call Morven here, would you? I wish to dine with him."

The guard hustled away and the food arrived shortly after. Arthur had devoured half his meal by the time Morven had been fetched and dressed for dinner. He bowed as the large doors swung closed behind him. "I am honored by your invitation, Sire."

Arthur motioned to the chair and Morven slipped into it. As the druid began to pick at his plate, inspecting the foreign preparations, the king flicked his hands at the guards. "Leave us." The guards obeyed and Morven looked suddenly nervous. Arthur laughed. "Don't worry. I wanted to get rid of the extra ears."

Morven nodded and grabbed some fruit off the table and munched thoughtfully. "You have a wide selection of fruits and vegetables, My Lord. Your lands must be quite fertile."

Arthur nodded proudly. "Our fields are the most prosperous of the five kingdoms. I wish for you to take a sample of our crops back to your people. If we are to become friends, we will need to work out trade agreements. I believe that we can both prosper from this union."

"As do I, Sire." From the other end of the table, Arthur missed the guilt that passed across Morven's eyes.

Arthur took a sip of water and folded his hands in front of his mouth. After a moment, he said, "Morven, may I request something in confidence?"

Morven's eyes lit up. "Of course, My Lord."

Arthur smiled and looked down to his half-eaten plate. "You know that during my father's raids on the druid villages, he seized many scrolls and artifacts."

Morven saddened. "Yes, Sire."

Arthur seemed to struggle with how to speak next. "I would like to ensure that all of these artifacts and scrolls are delivered back into the hands of the druids; where they belong." Morven smiled brightly and nodded. "But I would like to learn more about your people from them before I do."

A strange look came over Morven's face at this. He seemed excited, but his excitement was tainted with another brief flash of guilt. "I am happy that you have taken an interest.

"Do you think," began Arthur, his stomach churning for no particular reason, "that you could help me translate one of the scrolls I have found? Our knowledge of the druid language is limited."

Morven nodded immediately. "Of course, Sire. It would be an honor!"

Arthur smiled and resumed eating, his nerves calmed. He hadn't noticed it when he originally planned to request this of Morven, but the act of asking a favor of the druid frightened him. He was walking on eggshells, doing his best to cross no lines.

Once dinner had been finished, Arthur lead Morven to the library. Arthur dismissed a rather perplexed Geoffrey and headed back to the chest where he had locked the ancient scrolls. He pulled out the first he had found and Morven spent a long time reading over it. He smiled. "I well know these prophecies. These concern Emrys."

"Emrys," muttered Arthur. "You know of Emrys then."

Morven laid the scroll across the table and bent over it. "Every druid child is born with the name Emrys within their minds."

"What do you know of him?" asked Arthur, sitting back in the chair pulled up to the desk and motioning to another for Morven.

"Emrys is a figure shrouded in much mystery. We only know a few things about him." Morven pointed at the text. "These prophecies were made by the great seer Taliesin."

Arthur pondered his words and then bent to retrieve the other scroll. "What can you tell me about this one?" he asked, handing it to him.

Morven took the scroll and smiled broadly at it. "Such writing... it has been long since I have seen such beautiful lettering. We retain very few scrolls of this age." Arthur saddened a small bit at the implication he knew was hidden in the statement, but Morven seemed too taken by the scroll to care. He unrolled it and stood again, laying it across the table, and began to read.

For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes just darting back and forth across the page. Suddenly he looked at Arthur as though he forgot the king was there. "I apologize. I must paraphrase. The prophecies are written in a specific dialect so that they can be read by anyone, but the normal language is difficult to translate into the common tongue."

Arthur looked to the scroll with interest. "Why are the prophecies different?"

Morven grinned at him. "The words of a seer are meant for the benefit of all." Arthur returned the smile and Morven returned to the scroll. After a moment, he looked up at the king again. "This passage speaks of Emrys' great power."

Arthur nodded. "I remember trying to translate that section but I had difficulties."

Morven laughed. "It says that the power of Emrys shall surpass all those who have come before him and all those who come after." Arthur's hands' grip on themselves tightened and his shoulders tensed. "This next passage speaks of a great kingdom he will build alongside the Once and Future King."

Arthur paused. Once and Future King... he had heard that somewhere before. Someone had once called him that, but who was it?

Morven continued, smiling at the king again. "Many of the tribes believe that the Once and Future King is you, Arthur." Arthur nodded nervously. Morven read a bit more. "This next passage speaks about two items that can be used to identify Emrys." Arthur noticed that Morven suddenly tensed as he read further. "The first is referred to as the 'Emrys Caer' (1), which means 'stone'. It is a simple stone, that when brought into the presence of Emrys will shine brighter than the most precious of gems." Arthur groaned inwardly. Difficult to spot if it looks like any old stone. Morven unrolled more of the scroll, finding a large section that Arthur hadn't yet reached. "The other is called the _æmtignes_, meaning 'emptiness'. It refers to a mirror that will reflect no one but Emrys himself." He slid the scroll over into Arthur's line of sight. "They have drawn a likeness of this one."

Arthur felt his blood run cold. A million things ran through his mind at once. He had seen that mirror before. He had seen something else as well... something his mind simply could not accept. There had to be an explanation. He stood abruptly, knocking his large chair back onto the floor. Without another word to Morven he dashed from the room, the druid on his heels.

Seeing the king sprinting down the hall was not an unusual occurrence in the palace, but also seeing him pursued by a druid caused a decent amount of alarm and two guards quickly took chase. The king dashed down into the vaults as quickly as his legs would allow, but Morven stopped at the top of the stairs and smiled. He took a deep breath as though feeling the same warm blanket of magic that had warmed Merlin's heart.

Arthur's hands were shaking as he shoved the key into the lock and threw open the doors. He looked to the wall and tore the cloth away from the mirror suspended underneath. He didn't notice Morven's exclamation. "The _æmtignes_! It must have been seized during the raids!"

Arthur stared at the mirror. It was off-putting, staring into a mirror and seeing nothing but the scrolls and shelves behind him. He waved at it as though suddenly it would behave like any other mirror, but the sheet of glass remained blank. Morven moved closer to the king and smiled at his lack of reflection.

"It is an eerie thing, this mirror," he said.

"Out!" shouted Arthur. Morven leaped away from him. The king pointed at the guards. "I want everyone out of here immediately, and send me Sir Leon and Sir Percival." The guards nodded and hustled off to their tasks. Morven remained, guilt-ridden eyes fixed on the king.

"Have I done something, Sire?" he asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No Morven. I'm sorry I shouted." he finally turned to the druid. "But I would like you to return to your chambers now."

After a moment, Morven bowed and left.

He played the moment over and over again in his head, but no matter how many times he examined it, it remained the same. Without a doubt he had seen Merlin's reflection in this mirror. The servant had stood transfixed by this mirror no more than two weeks ago.

"Do you look pretty today, Merlin?" he whispered. There was no humor in his voice.

How could it be possible? How could Arthur's clumsy, bumbling, idiotic manservant possibly be such a figure of legend? Was it possible that the prophecies were wrong? Even Arthur knew that was a stretch, but it made more sense than Merlin being such a powerful sorcerer. His mind had gone numb. There was so much chaos and confusion that it had all settled into the back of his mind like a dull hum to be sorted later and he was left with silence.

He was startled some time later (though it felt like seconds, and Arthur couldn't honestly recall what he had been thinking about in the interim) by the noisy arrival of Leon and Percival. Both knights looked a bit shaken as the outburst had obviously frightened the guards that had been sent to fetch them. "What is it, Sire?" asked Leon.

Arthur struggled for a moment, looking into the mirror once more. He almost flinched when he saw nothing within it. He yanked the cloth back over the frame and ran a hand down his mouth. An emotion finally leaked from behind the wall where Arthur had shoved his emotions; fear. It clenched at his stomach so powerfully that he was nearly sick. He put a hand to his middle and leaned on one wall. He heard Leon and Percival move to assist him, but waved at them immediately.

"I'm fine," he barked. He was having difficulty quashing his anger.

Visions of seeing Morgana sitting on his father's throne with a cruel smile on her face flashed through his mind. It was quickly followed by the memory of Agravaine standing at the side of mercenaries that flooded his kingdom.

He pushed aside the memories and looked to his knights, whose expressions of fear and concern were deepening by the moment. "I want you... to arrest Merlin."

Leon and Percival exchanged a look. They stood silent for a few moments, waiting for Arthur to recant the order and laugh at his obvious joke. When he did nothing but stand stone still with a blank look on his face, Percival took a step forward.

"Merlin...?" he asked. "Sire-"

Arthur cut him off. "Do not question it and breathe not a word of any of this to another soul. Do you both understand?"

They both hesitantly nodded and headed slowly up the stairs. After a few moments more, Arthur followed in their footsteps but retreated immediately to his chambers. He acknowledged no one on his way in, drawing a few stares and expressions of concern. No one else existed at the moment. Arthur was in his own mind, and it was not a fun place just at that moment.

He slammed the doors shut behind him and shed his cape, chain mail, and padded shirt, dropping them onto the floor and wandering to the large dining table. He plopped into one of the chairs and held his head in his hands.

The fear still tossed and turned in his stomach like an untamed stallion. He gripped his hair, the desire to pull it out until everything made sense beginning to tug at his mind. He wanted to erase the information from his brain, scrub his mind until all memory of that god-forsaken mirror was obliterated. He felt his eyes sting, but he refused to let any moisture leave his eyes. He gritted his teeth against the emotions that were now pouring from behind his wall of ignorance.

What was wrong with him? Was he such a horrible king that not a single person close to him could avoid betraying him? How much of his personality had been carefully crafted by his relationship with these people? Who was he now that they were being stripped away? He had long believed that the council of others was important. But how could he trust the council of traitors? Was he so blind? Was he so stupid? Was he so naïve?

_I will take your place... What is the life of a servant, compared to that of a prince?_

An offer of sacrifice; to take Arthur's place as the lamb for slaughter. The sting of betrayal ran through his mind, coupled with a strong feeling of familial love. They were water and oil. They wouldn't mix and yet he managed to feel them at the same time. It was as though suddenly the world he lived in made no sense. The palace where he had grown up was no longer familiar. The ground beneath his feet was crumbling.

Something bubbled deep inside him, threatening to spill out from every pore of his body. Rage and humiliation began to ooze from his mind and inflamed his soul until he stood from his chair, gripped his fist tight and slammed it into the nearest wall with every bit of strength he possessed. He threw his head back and let a roar and anger and humiliation tear from his throat. He screamed until he had no breath, and the guards were in his room in an instant. They stared at the empty room, expecting to see an assailant or perhaps a mortally wounded royal, but they saw Arthur standing still, one hand cradled in the other. Arthur waved them away immediately, sending them a powerful glare when they did not immediately move.

He turned to head to his bed only to find his wife staring at him with terror in her eyes. She was dressed for bed, her hair already braided, and she hurried to his side, taking his now broken fingers into her own. She looked over them for a second before putting a hand to his face.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" she asked softly. She sounded on the verge of tears. "What's happened?"

Arthur opened his mouth a few times, and when she saw his struggle, she lead him to the bed and they sat on the edge together. "I... I don't know what to do." To his own horror he felt his breath hitch in his throat and he tried his best to swallow the lump that formed. Gwen brushed some of his hair from his face. She remained silent, waiting for the king to offer new information. The amount of pain he held in his eyes brought tears to hers. She gingerly held his broken hand in one of hers and held the other on his arm, gently stroking it with her thumb.

"How long..." He trailed off and looked down to the hand held in Guinevere's. "How long must you know someone... before you know who they truly are?" He was surprised to see a droplet of water land on Gwen's hand. "When can you know...?"

Guinevere shifted on the bed, piling a few pillows behind her and leaning her torso back. As she leaned, she urged the king with her and laid his head against her breast, stroking the top of his head like he were a child. Arthur laid his injured hand to one side and held one of hers close to his heart with his other.

"Arthur, you are surrounded by people who love and care for you. Sometimes it's about believing in the bond you share," she said, resting her cheek on the top of his head. There was no way of knowing what was happening in the king's head. It didn't matter. The amount of agony and confusion in her husband's eyes would have her holding him until the sun came up if it was needed.

Arthur pulled his legs onto the bed and stretched them out, shifting a little more to his side and against Guinevere. "What if believing in that bond means believing the impossible?" he whispered. How could he believe Merlin's good intentions when he was now questioning everything the man had ever said to him?

"Then believe, my beloved," breathed Gwen. "As we believe in you."

Arthur thought no more, falling into a dreamless and restless sleep.

* * *

1: Okay, I wrote Caer because of poetic liscence. XD The actually word for stone I think if Carr, and I just couldn't take seriously anything in here called the Emrys Car.

Emrys-mobile...

Okay, less of a cliffhanger, but still a little one. Lol. Sorreh! Two updates in one day. Whew! I'll see you all soon!

Don't forget to review so my writing frenzy can continue!


	9. His Secret

Hey all! This update is a little past due in my opinion. I've had it written for a few days now, but this was the infamous confrontation. I was so nervous about making it just right I made my sister (Omnisession) preview it two or three times after edits. She helped me out a lot. Love ya, sis!

So anyway, I'm excited to get this chapter up. The big things are about to start happening, so I hope you look forward to it!

**Reviewer Responses**

flyaway213: Lol! I will have to edit that! Glad you caught it. I rewrote that scene like... four times and I guess the line about the charge got lost in translation.

Morena Evensong: Oh believe me, the mirror was designed with a very specific purpose in mind. You'll find out more about its creator soon. And yeah, his reaction was something I really struggled with. The problem is that there is so much conflict in his head. Everything he knows is suddenly clashing against one another and turning everything backwards. I knew right away what he would do, but it was hard to figure out what he would feel.

Healed535: Yep! Foreshadowiiiiiiiing!

Mediatrix: Yeah, that was a mistake on my part. I rewrote that scene a million times so the line just got mixed up and forgotten.

Elfpen: I like hugs! But thank you. :) Complex plots are one of my favorite things about writing. Sometimes I have to reel it in a bit, but this story seemed easier than normal to balance. Characterization is a real pet-peeve with me, so I really work on it and I'm glad it shows! I absolutely love the episode where the druid boy possesses Elyan and we get to see one of the first really large breaks that he is making away from his father's ways. He starts to see the horrible things that were done in his father's name and has promised to stop the first of them. I wanted that to bleed into the story.

Omnisession: Oh don't whine. You're my sister. XD You get to preview some of the chapters. lol

That-is-illogical: Really? Sweet! Glad you like!

CaptainOzone: Woo! I love unexpected things! Thank you! And I'm glad I put the scene with Gwen in there. Originally, I had Arthur mulling things over while, pacing and thinking to himself, but again, I wanted that Guinevere support, and I'm glad I changed it.

helva2260: It's fun writing Arthur as the mildly gullible, arrogant, and oblivious guy that makes us all laught, but I do enjoy writing him with the air of the king that we read about him in the legends. I love the way the writers of the show have transformed him into a real king and it's great fun writing him like that.

Lady Willamina:I enjoy flipping things around. And I also enjoyed toying with the fact of Arthur finding out from a third party about Merlin, however jarring that may be for Arthur himself. I'm really glad that Edlyn and Morven are making you think. :3

Youngest Ones Rule: Thank yew!

Felicity P: Aww, thanks! :D

shadow visor: Oh he's terrified. Poor thing.

1983Sarah: *imitates the Tazmanian devil* I'm glad it was a new way to look at the reveal. :) I wanted to do something a little sideways of the common ideas.

Ash9: Oh it hit him right in the feels. He's a strong man, though. He is the Once and Future King, after all.

servant123: FORESHADOWIIIIIIING! :D I loves it. I love that moment when you think back to the beginning and you're like, "ohhh yeeeaaaaah!"

I don't own Merlin and here we go!

* * *

Merlin's back ached when he awoke, and as he righted himself hay stuck to the side of his face. It took him a few moments for the panic to set back in as he looked to his shackled wrists and remembered where he was.

He was in the dungeons for sorcery.

He sat at the back of a large straw-covered floor, the manacles on his thin wrists attached to heavy chains that connected to the wall behind him. A cry pulled his attention upwards and in the barred window at the top of his cell sat Frio Niman. She managed to squeeze through the bars and dropped to the floor in front of him. Suddenly she hopped backwards and left where she stood was some manner of dead rodent. She looked expectantly at him. Merlin smiled weakly. Three days he had been in the cell, and each morning he was greeted by Frio carrying another bit of 'food'. There was a small pile of little dead creatures off to the side. She didn't seem to mind that he was not eating them, and picked at them herself occasionally.

Merlin leaned back against the wall. Pretty soon, guards would come and fetch him for his rendezvous with the pyre, he was sure. Or perhaps Arthur was to be kind and send him to the chopping block instead. Frio fluttered onto Merlin's shoulder and began to preen through his hair, picking out hay and generally running her beak gently along his scalp as though he were her newly-hatched chick.

She was his only company these three days. His cell was not barred as several were in the dungeons. He was in the cell reserved for the most dangerous of criminals. It was a room entirely encased in stone. The only window in the room was set upon a steep slope to prevent any attempt of escape. The door to the rest of the dungeons was heavy and made of wood. It was likely that the guards outside didn't even know who they were guarding.

The door would be a mild obstacle in Merlin's potential escape, had he planned one. He had blasted escape routes through material far more impressive. But he couldn't seem to find the motivation to use his magic. He didn't even try.

His reverie was broken by a wing slapping him in the face. He chuckled a little and lifted her off his shoulder by her belly and placed her in his lap. She nestled down as though covering her eggs. Merlin stroked her back absently and looked up at the window.

After a moment, a black figure obscured the light flowing into the room Merlin squinted at it and could barely make out the form of Colsweart staring down at him. He waved a little and Frio perked up to look at the hawk as well. After pecking at the ground a few times, the bird vanished once again.

Merlin's thoughts screeched to a halt as he heard voices outside the cell. Frio hopped from his lap and stood in front of him, her feathers puffing up around her body. After a moment, the door opened and Arthur stepped into the cell, holding a large sack in the hand that wasn't bundled in bandages. Merlin immediately stared at the floor. In front of him, Frio opened her beak wide and spread her massive wings as she had against Edlyn days before. She squeaked at Arthur a few times, following his every move as he shut the door behind him and leaned back against it.

Arthur eyed the bird and set the cloth package on the floor before squatting down on his haunches, his face impassive as he looked over his servant (having to crane his body around to see him behind Frio's spread wings).

His skin was covered with dust and dirt from sleeping, and his eyes were underlined with heavy bags. Only three days had passed and yet Arthur thought the man already looked thinner. He glanced behind him at the plates that had been tossed into the cell but never touched. Then his eyes wandered to the pile of dead rodents and he couldn't help but smirk.

"At least you've been well-fed," he joked quietly. Merlin didn't stir. Arthur reached into the bag and produced a water skin. "You're probably thirsty. I know the water they give you is pretty minimal."

Merlin finally looked up, eying the water skin hungrily. Arthur stood and took a step toward Merlin but was stopped when Frio let out a shriek and dug her beak into the toe of one of his boots. Arthur jumped back a bit and examined the damage, feeling rather grateful that one of his toes had not been in that particular part of the shoe.

Merlin looked down at Frio and she suddenly calmed, folding her wings back at her sides, shaking herself, and then hopping over to nestle into his lap again. Arthur smirked at the interaction and took another step toward Merlin, extending the water skin. Merlin looked at it suspiciously for a moment and Arthur rolled his eyes. "You're in my dungeons, Merlin. I'm not going to poison you."

Merlin immediately grabbed the water skin and began to empty the contents into his mouth as quickly as he could get it down his throat.

"Careful," laughed Arthur, sitting down a few feet from the prisoner. "You'll throw it all up."

Merlin wished Arthur's light mood would comfort him, and yet it didn't. Arthur didn't seem as though he had come in to release him with a forced apology. The king was oddly laid back. He stared at Arthur for a moment, offering the water skin to Frio, who pecked at the drops as they slowly spilled from the small opening. There was a silence that followed and the king's laid-back attitude seemed to evaporate. The air around them became suddenly tense. Arthur stared into Merlin's eyes as though attempting to decode them. After a moment, Merlin averted his eyes to one of the walls, unable to bear Arthur's tumultuous gaze.

"Do you know what outed you?" asked Arthur suddenly. Merlin looked up at him as he reached behind him at the sack he had brought in.

"Arthur, you have to believe-!"

"Shut up, Merlin," snapped Arthur. It was a common saying between the men, but there was an edge of rage in his tone this time. From the bag he removed a familiar wooden frame. He looked at the front for a moment before spinning it around to face the servant. Merlin looked the mirror over, recognizing the druid-scored edges of the frame. He stared at it for a moment before he realized that the mirror reflected nothing sitting in his lap. He looked down to Frio, who had stopped sipping at the water and had begun to blithely preen herself. He then looked back to the mirror and then to Arthur.

Arthur craned his neck over the top of the frame to stare at Merlin's reflection. "Seems you are the only one in the world that will reflect in this." When the king looked back up, he found himself mildly surprised at the tears that were leaking from Merlin's eyes, though his face was schooled into a emotionless expression. "Emrys..."

Merlin let out a breath and looked to the walls again, anywhere but the king. He sucked air back into his lungs and his chest tightened. Arthur could tell the young man was being wracked by barely-controlled sobs. Arthur leaned his arms on the top of the frame and rested his chin on them.

"I've told you countless times that you're an idiot, Merlin," said Arthur, his tone oddly somber, "but this tops everything you've ever done." Merlin looked up to him. "What, you come to the heart of the fight against magic and figure that the best thing to do is open a magic book?" Merlin shook his head. Arthur thought for a moment. "Then... you learned magic sometime in Ealdor, perhaps from your friend, and then you're stupid enough to come here?"

"Are you going to kill me?" Merlin's voice was hoarse and dry and it cracked when he spoke.

Arthur frowned at him, his resolve faltering when he heard the despair in the man's voice. "I haven't decided yet." It was almost a challenge. He was challenging Merlin to give him a reason not to. Merlin found that the answer to said challenge was not immediately apparent even in his mind. Arthur tilted his head to one side. "Answer my question, Merlin." The warlock took a moment and then shook his head. Arthur threw up his hands. "Then where did this all start?"

Merlin looked up at him and then after a long moment, said, "I was born with magic." Arthur stared at him as though he didn't quite believe him. "I could use magic before I could walk and talk."

Arthur set the mirror to the side and fixed him with a long stare. In Merlin's lap, Frio looked at him and hunched her head down between her wings, her feathers puffing up, as though she grew suspicious of him again. "It's a strange thing, to be sure." Arthur folded his arms across his chest. He spoke as though this was not news to him.

Merlin shrugged. "I spent the first ten years of my life thinking I was a monster." This time he met Arthur's eyes.

They fell into silence again as Arthur thought, and Merlin tried not to think. Arthur leaned his elbows on his knees and played with a piece of straw. "I've spoken with Gaius many times these last few days. The morning after you were arrested, he was practically pounding my door off its hinges." A ghost of a smile passed quickly to and from Merlin's mouth. "He told me the same thing; that you were born with magic." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "I can't decide if you are telling me the truth, or if you've just gotten your stories straight." He leaned back again and tossed the piece of straw back onto the cold floor. "Not that there's any way to really verify that. You've kept things so well disguised." The glare returned. "You are better at deception than I ever imagined."

The shaking returned to Merlin's shoulders and more liquid made its slow way down his porcelain cheeks. Something in Arthur clenched in pain at the look on his servant's face. A different part of him reveled in the revenge for the king's humiliation.

Arthur looked to the ceiling. "Gaius reminded me of something he told me not too long ago. He said that one day I would understand all that the people of my kingdom have done for me." He looked back to Merlin. "Was he referring to you?"

Arthur leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again and staring intently into Merlin's blue eyes. "Tell me," he ordered. "What has the great Emrys done for me, Merlin?"

Merlin flinched at Arthur's use of the name, but then his eyebrows went up. Was he truly giving him an opportunity? His mind spun for a few seconds, trying to thing of anything that he could say that would be believable. Unfortunately, his magic all being done behind Arthur's back made examples hard to come by. Something in his mind clicked and he shifted, sitting up straighter. Frio hopped out of his lap and began slowly circling Arthur, keeping her eyes on him at all times.

Merlin held out one hand. "_Fromum feohgiftum fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum..."_(1)This blue eyes flashed a vibrant gold, and Arthur swallowed the fright that came upon him at the sight. It reminded him of Morgana.

In the center of Merlin's palm, a light began to shine. The speck of light was soon engulfed in a sphere of soft blue light, like a glass bauble. Arthur's eyes were then drawn to his right where a larger version of the ball in Merlin's hand floated in the air at his eye-level. It floated lazily around the room and Frio suddenly began to chase it. Arthur stood and stared at it with wide eyes, turning as it circled the room. He whipped around to look at his servant again, his face looking even paler in the blue light of his spell.

"It was you," he whispered. "All those years ago. In the cave. Even then..." Arthur trailed off and Merlin averted his gaze.

He shot to his feet and interlocked his fingers behind his head, as though the information would spill out of his skull if he took his hands away. The light passed in front of his eyes again, followed by an energetic Frio. Arthur turned and looked back to Merlin as the sorcerer tossed the small bauble of magic about between his shackled hands.

"'Then believe'," Arthur whispered. Merlin looked up at him. Arthur took a moment longer to stare at the small sphere of light before marching toward his servant. Merlin shrank against the wall and the light vanished. Behind him, he could hear Frio screech angrily at him.

Arthur unlocked Merlin's shackles and pulled him to his feet. The man was unsteady, though it was only in part due to his lack of nutrition. It was as though he were floating in a dream. He had been discovered and he was now being released. He had been taking the time these last few days to come to term with the idea that soon he would be handed his death sentence and now he was a free man.

But there was something in the king's eyes that hadn't been there previously. Merlin had always assumed that once he was discovered, he would see hatred and anger. What he saw there now tore at his heart more than he ever thought those two emotions could; fear. Arthur would never admit it, Merlin knew, but he was afraid of his servant. Perhaps, he was almost as afraid of Merlin as Merlin was of himself.

A morbid thought appeared in Merlin's head and before he could stop himself he asked, "Sire, why didn't you execute me the day after you found out?"

Arthur took a long moment to ponder the question. "Ten years of loyal service is almost enough to balance out ten years of lies." He looked at Merlin again and his gaze was heavy. "But not entirely. I couldn't do nothing, but I didn't know what I should do either."

Merlin paused. "If you didn't know what you were going to do with me, Arthur... why did you throw me in the dungeon?"

Arthur stooped to pick up the mirror, the water skin, and the sack. "To see if you'd run." He stuffed the items in the bag and left the cell, leaving a rather dumbfounded look on Merlin's face. "And you're repairing the damage your bird did to my boot!" He called from the stairs.

Colsweart screeched as he perched himself on the windowsill and puffed up at the sight of Edlyn who sat nearby. She stood and backed away. "Morven!" she cried.

Morven jumped out of bed where he had been relaxing and hurried to the window. Colsweart jumped into Morven's arm and the druid retrieved a beige feather from between his claws. Morven's face fell, but Edlyn seemed pleased with the gift. "It seems Frio Niman was more useful than we thought." Morven moved back into the room and returned to his bed. Colsweart hopped onto the blankets and settled himself next to where Morven reclined, nudging his hand and cooing sadly. Morven looked to his sister as she scribbled madly upon a piece of parchment.

When she had finished, she stood and moved to the window holding the pendant around her neck aloft. Closing her eyes she began to chant quietly.

"_Æ__rendboc acylcan to gemæcca æfteronfond. Acylcan to læppa habban gehwæt... _(2)_"_

* * *

1: "With his father's friends by fee and gift." This is Merlin wiki's translation of the light orb spell that Merlin used to guide Arthur through the caves in _The Poisoned Chalice_.

2. "Received this message, my other half. Send away to whomever holds the other piece." I apologize if I butchered that spell. I went with a VOS grammatical structure because the literal translations I've found don't really seem to support much of anything. lol

Alright, hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think! I'll see you soon!


	10. Her Purpose

So in celebration of having 100 followers (Eee! Cause I'm a geek like that), I'm posting this chapter. As soon as I got home from work I had to get it out so I could give it to you guys. Things start to go a little crazy in this chapter so I hope you're ready! A lot of questions will be answered and a lot more will pop up!

I actually called my sister to see if I should increase the rating on this story for a particular part in this chapter. We think it is fine, but I apologize if the blood 'n guts makes you go and break windows or something. You can thank my friend Tom for that bit. lool. It's his fault again. Frio fans are gonna like it I think.

Anyway, thank you all so much for the follows and reviews! You lot are awesome and you make me look forward to posting a new chapter each time!

**Reviewer Responses**

EchoRose480: Thak yew! Will dew!

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Yeah, I had my sister preview this like two or three times because I wanted to get Arthur right.

Vuurvlieg: Men... talking... it'll happen, just... they're not gonna be good at it. Merlin and Arthur are fantastic at many things. Heart-to-hearts... not so much. This is far from the end of this issue, but a good ol' sit-down isn't particularly in the cards. XD

1983Sarah: That Merlin was going to use that spell to show Arthur his good will was one of the first things I decided when planning this story. I think it's possible the writers will use it in the same way; or at least it would be smart of them to. Would waste a great foreshadowing moment. FORESHADOWIIIIIIIING!

Morena Evensong: Lol, she didn't go to the kitchen becuase she's a bird. She doesn't see any of that as actual food. She sees rodents as food. She thought she was taking wonderful care of her warlock. XD And you have good instincts when it comes to Morven and Edlyn.

flyaway123: *Grins*

Ash9: I'll give him a hug! And other things! :3

servant123: Oh there is plenty more of the feelings between them later. You will see.

Alright, I don't own Merlin and here we go!

* * *

Merlin scurried after Arthur, his head bowed like any obedient servant. This drew quite a few stares. Merlin was anything but. Frio hopped behind Merlin, cooing at him occasionally. Merlin turned slightly and attempted to get his thoughts to focus into a message.

_Go hunting_, he commanded. She looked up at him. She looked around, seeming to consider it for a moment before shooting out of one of the windows and toward the forest. Merlin suddenly felt the impression that she deemed him safe now that he was not in the 'box'.

Arthur's pace was fast and purposeful as he strode through the corridors, servants parting as he walked and guards nodding their heads at him as he passed doorways. As they entered a particularly empty wing of the castle, Arthur suddenly rounded on Merlin. It was all the servant could do to avoid slamming into the king.

Arthur stuck a finger in Merlin's face. "You lied to me Merlin. You lied to me for years."

Merlin's shook his head. "I never wanted to lie," he said quietly, but his face grew slightly more resolute. "But it was the only way that I could survive. Uther would have executed me simply for existing."

Arthur stepped forward and got in Merlin's face. "And me?" the king demanded. Merlin stared unflinchingly back at him, his confidence growing now that he was not shackled to a wall. The servant kept his mouth shut. "You should have given me the opportunity to show you that I could have done differently." There was a sadness that suddenly appeared in Arthur's eyes that Merlin simply identified with the pain of having yet another friend show signs of deception. But to Arthur, it was more than that. Despite everything they had been through, Merlin still feared that Arthur would have killed him. Somehow that hurt almost as much as the lie.

Arthur turned and continued his march down the deserted hallway, leading into a part of the castle that Merlin could only remember having visited once or twice. After a few moments, Merlin sighed. "Where are we going, Arthur?"

"I spoke with Guinevere, Gwaine, Leon, Percival, and Elyan this morning. We are going to meet them," said Arthur.

"Why?" Merlin asked.

"You are going to tell them who you are."

Merlin stopped dead in his tracks. Arthur picked up on it after a few steps. "I'm what?"

Arthur turned and fixed him with an authoritative stare. "I will keep your secret, but I have one condition." He pointed behind him at a set of old wooden doors at the end of the hall. "I will not keep such a secret from my wife nor from my closest knights. I've told them what I knew before I found out. But the actual admission needs to come from you."

Merlin's heartbeat thudded in his ears, and he could tell that Arthur could see his breathing become much quicker. The warlock's stomach churned violently and he leaned on a windowsill to steady himself. "You want me to...?" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Arthur took a few more steps toward his servant. "I've worked these past months to open my mind to the possibility that magic is only as evil as its wielder. I've had to in order to prepare to extend the hand of friendship to the druids. Just a few months is not nearly enough time to overcome a lifetime of hate, but I was getting close." He took one more step and he was in Merlin's face. "You will do them a courtesy that you didn't give me," he growled.

He didn't give Merlin any time to think it over and headed to the doors to push them open. The room was no larger than the king's chambers, but lacked all furniture save for two chairs occupying the center. Gwaine reclined slightly in one while Guinevere sat in the other. Leon stood leaning against a wall and Elyan was staring out the window (in boredom, Merlin would have to guess judging by the slump of his shoulders). Percival was sitting off to one side, leaning against a wall and running a sharpening stone along the edge of his sword. It seemed he was the only one who had brought something to do. The group all looked up when Arthur barged in, followed by a shaky-looking Merlin. The room was lit by several torches and Arthur turned to push the doors closed behind them.

"Merlin!" cried Gwaine happily, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Haven't seen you in a few days, where you been?"

Merlin opened his mouth and was startled how quickly the lie 'just busy' flew to his lips. But he stopped it leaving his mouth as he got a knowing look from Arthur. He sighed. "I was in the dungeons."

Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Arthur," he groaned. "I don't think it's even necessary half the time you do that."

Arthur said nothing but gave a nod to Merlin. The warlock felt oddly humiliated, standing in front of his closest friends and being forced to give up his largest secret. That secret had always protected him, swaddling him like a comfortable set of clothes. What would his friends think of him? Arthur cleared his throat loudly to stir Merlin into action.

"Merlin has something he wants to share with you," prompted Arthur.

"I really don't," muttered Merlin. He could see Arthur's point, though. These people were the ones they shared their lives with. Arthur had been hurt badly by the revelation, and only more so because he had to find out on his own. Merlin owed it to his friends to not let them find out that way too. He had spent his years in Camelot lying to keep himself alive. I was too much to ask Arthur to suddenly do the same thing. He thought for a moment, but the words simply wouldn't come. He decided to stick with something comfortable; magic. He waved his hand across the torches in the room.

"_Hoppaþ nu swilce swá lieg_ _fleogan.(1)_"

His eyes flared gold and he could feel them tense. The flames from the torches lifted away from their wooden fuel and began to dance in a small circle above the group's heads. Leon's hand brushed instinctively to his sword. Elyan stepped away from the window and Percival jumped to his feet. The larger man was staring at the flames with wonder, but Elyan's eyes narrowed as he stared at Merlin.

"Sorcerer," he grumbled.

One of the flames danced down to Merlin and he swirled it around his fingers. "The druids call me Emrys," he stated. The room tensed again, their king having explained the name earlier. Several pairs of eyes turned to Arthur, who nodded in confirmation. Merlin gave a wry laugh. "That name's been so annoying lately." He spread his fingers and the flames danced back to their torches.

Leon looked to Arthur, as though expecting to receive orders, but the king's posture was rather relaxed, staring intensely at the warlock. Leon felt himself relax reflexively and looked back to Merlin. "All these years," he muttered, thinking back to when he first noticed the bumbling servant that seemed to trail Arthur's heels at all times.

Gwaine leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "I suppose I can't say I'm surprised." Merlin smiled a little. His tone was even; not filled with fear. His eyes held trepidation, but the panic he had feared he would see was absent. "There's always been something odd about you."

Gwen motioned to Merlin. "But you've spoken out against sorcery before!"

Merlin shrugged. "It wasn't time yet." He paused and looked to his twiddling fingers. "And I was afraid."

Percival leaned back against the wall again and crossed his arms over his chest. "You lived in fear for so long," he said with a little bit of awe in his voice.

Elyan straightened as Leon did when Arthur made no move against Merlin. "Did you not trust your friends with your secret?"

Merlin shook his head. "It wasn't that. I didn't want to put any of you in a position where you would have to choose between the law and me."

Arthur's eyebrows knitted together. "He didn't trust that I would be fair to him," he said angrily.

Merlin's posture became more firm and he once again met Arthur's eyes with confidence. "So many times you've expressed your hatred and fear of magic. And even if I hadn't been afraid for my life..." He became more quiet, and the confidence vanished to be replaced by something that reminded Arthur of a frightened child. His glare softened. "Sometimes I scare myself," Merlin continued, "with the things that I can do. The last thing I want is for my friends to fear me."

Silence followed until Gwaine leaned forward a little more in his chair, a mischievous smile playing at his mouth. "Scared of you, huh?" He paused, considered his words and then said, "Scare me." The others gave him varying looks of surprise.

Merlin's eyes widened at him. "What? No."

Gwaine's smile disappeared and he stared at him. "Merlin, do it."

Merlin laughed weakly. "I don't think you know what it is you're asking of me, Gwaine. You want me to prove I'm nothing more than the magical creatures that we've fought over the years?"

Gwaine shook his head. "No. I want to prove that you won't harm us." There was a little bit of nervous shuffling among the knights, but none of them raised an objection. They did, however, grip their sword hilts rather tightly.

The warlock sat there, stunned and with his mouth hanging open. They still trusted him that much? Just as Arthur had given him the opportunity to demonstrate his intentions, they were now offering him a chance to display his true self. He took a deep breath and began to speak. His voice was low and rumbling and he squatted down on his haunches as he spoke.

"_Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest_ _nu!(2)_"

He slammed one of his hands onto the stone floor and Guinevere screamed as the floor began to shake violently. The knights all wavered back and forth, attempting to remain upright. Several stares of shock were sent at him, but Merlin decided it wasn't enough yet. He stretched out his arm toward the window, his fingers spread.

"_Áberstan!(3)_"

Elyan jumped as the window behind him shattered as though something had leaped from within the room out to the ground below. Merlin held his hand outstretched.

"_Ic her aciege ænne windræs! Færblæd wawe!"_He lowered his hands and now shouted at the air above them, _"Windræs ungetermed:_ _gehiere!(4)_" His eyes flashed a vibrant golden.

A blast of wind swept into the chamber and swirled around the group. Leon hit the ground first, bracing himself against the floor and looking around to get a better view of what was happening. Arthur dropped himself, squatting in a readied position and placing his hands on the ground at his sides. Gwaine and Gwen managed to hold onto their chairs and remain upright until Elyan stumbled into Gwaine and they both tumbled to the ground. Percival braced himself against the wall and looked around with that same look of wonder in his eyes.

Merlin's eyes flashed one more time, and the knights began to scramble a little when their swords slid out of their scabbards and floated toward Merlin. Within moments, all five blades were hovering at Merlin's sides, pointed at their owners. It was a cacophony of power. There was magic all around them, and Arthur stared up at his idiotic servant. Somewhere far in the back of his mind, he admitted he understood why Merlin was Emrys.

With a flick of Merlin's hands, the shaking beneath their feet halted, and the wind died down. Each sword was turned blade down and the hilts were offered to their owners. Each took their sword, gained their feet again, and slid the swords back into their scabbards. Guinevere's hair had been wildly mussed and she began picking her way through the strands, attempting to clear them away from her face.

Gwaine righted the chair that Elyan had bowled over and plopped into the seat. "Well that was properly terrifying," he admitted.

"You could have broken out of the cells," realized Leon. He looked to Arthur. "You stayed in there for three days." He looked back to Merlin. "Why would you do that?"

Merlin looked down at where the shackles had irritated his skin, leaving a strap of blisters around his wrists. "From where I stand, protecting this kingdom is the only reason I have this magic." He looked back to the group. "I am loyal to the king. If he had sentenced me to death I would have gone willingly."

"But why?" asked Elyan, leaning forward in her chair. "Why would you protect a kingdom that hates people like you?"

Merlin smirked and shrugged. "For the same reason you do."

There was something about the lack of hostility in the room that sent Merlin's heart soaring. It wasn't perfect, but they weren't clamoring over one another to be the first to chop his head off.

He looked to Arthur. The man was desperately trying to keep the look of awe on his face suppressed by one of anger. He wasn't doing too good a job, but his voice was low and a more than a little accusatory when he asked, "Anything else you need to share with us Merlin? Anything we should know?" His intense stare was enough to warn Merlin off lying to him again. However much he didn't want to go into anymore of the details of his magic, Merlin could hardly lie again after everything Arthur had _not_ done.

"Yeah!" urged Gwaine, his smile turning goofy. "Like how many times the princess has taken credit for something you've done." He jabbed his thumb at Arthur, who responded with a smack on the back of the knight's head.

Merlin giggled at them, but he thought about the question seriously. There was one more thing he could think of to tell them, and the elation in his heart soon dropped to anxiety in his stomach. He looked at them as they began to chatter among themselves about holes in their battles over the years.

"Arthur, you've never found it strange that after almost ten years of going into battle un-armored and un-armed, Merlin has never been seriously injured?" asked Gwaine with a chuckle.

"What about the time last year when that horseman caught him across the chest?" defended Arthur.

"Okay..." Gwaine paused to think. "Nine years, then."

"And the time when he was poisoned?" continued Arthur.

"He could hardly have defended himself against that," countered Gwen.

"And I don't suppose you noticed the number of times that enemies drop their weapons for no reason when we're in a bind, Gwaine?" Percvial asked, punching Gwaine in the shoulder lightly.

"Or go flying off their horses," muttered Leon.

"Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth." Arthur shrugged.

Was you that healed my father when he was sick?" asked Gwen.

"Balinor was my father," blurted Merlin, easily heard over the chatter. The room quieted and Arthur's face tightened at the name. There were general looks of confusion around the room.

"Balinor...?" asked Arthur, the anger back in his blue eyes.

Merlin nodded, but he seemed to be actively trying not to appear embarrassed or sheepish. He was proud of his lineage.

"Balinor, the dragonlord?" continued Arthur. This drew many stares back to the thin warlock. "You're a dragonlord?" he asked steadily.

Merlin nodded. "When he was killed, his power passed to me."

Something passed through Arthur's mind and he seemed suddenly less angry, his eyes blanketed instead with shock and sympathy. He had told the man that no one was worth his tears. Like Arthur, Merlin had watched his father die. Another thought occurred to Arthur and the anger and annoyance returned.

"I didn't kill the great dragon, did I?" It wasn't much of a question.

Merlin pursed his lips and chewed on them a little before shaking his head. "No."

"You killed the great dragon," he assumed, waving a hand at him and sighing.

Merlin paused for longer this time, thinking carefully about his answer. In the end, he simply said, "No," and let out a long breath.

Arthur's eyes grew wide. "It's still alive?!" he demanded. Merlin wasn't sure if he looked shocked or enraged. Arthur was having difficulty deciding the same thing. The great dragon obviously had been stopped in its attack on Camelot and hadn't returned since, but, "After what it did, how could you let it live, Merlin?"

Merlin's eyebrows came to a point and he glared at Arthur. "I am the last dragonlord, Arthur. I will not be responsible for the death of the breed; specifically when his death was not necessary."

"How was it not necessary?" asked Leon, his face growing angry as well. He had been in that gruesome fight. He watched many knights burn to death in the dragon's fire.

"When a dragonlord gives a command, a dragon cannot refuse it; he must obey," answered Merlin. His eyes were serious and dark. Arthur barely recognized them.

Breaking the tension, Gwaine chuckled and smacked Arthur on the arm. "You were sitting there with your shield and sword and all Merlin had to do was scold it."

Leon took a few steps forward that made Merlin retreat a little. "Why did you not stop the dragon before it killed six of our knights?" he demanded angrily.

Merlin shook his head. "I had never commanded a dragon before. My father had only just died, and I didn't even know if I had inherited the talent." He inclined his head toward the knight. "I'm so sorry, Leon."

Leon didn't seem overtly soothed, but he turned and sighed, rejoining Arthur.

"Wait." Arthur held out a hand. "What about the dragon egg."

Merlin pursed his lips again and finally said, "Her name is Aithusa?" It was nearly a question, as though asking whether or not he was going to be in trouble for this. From the look in the king's eyes, he most certainly was.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but the doors behind Merlin suddenly opened, and the startled warlock wound up on his backside, staring up at the guard who walked in. "Sire, the two druids wish to speak with you in the council chambers. It appears that they have received word from their tribe."

Arthur nodded. "Very well. I will meet them immediately." He waved and the guard vanished. "Well, I'll leave you lot to ask questions and get acquainted with Merlin's secrets. Lord knows it took me three days to come to terms with the very idea that someone as idiotic as Merlin is a sorcerer."

As Arthur passed him, Merlin grabbed his arm. "Sire, I'll come with you."

Arthur chuckled. "Afraid to be left alone to the scrutiny?" He went to take another step, but Merlin's hold on his arm tightened.

"Arthur, remember when I told you that I had a bad feeling about the druids?" Arthur paused and nodded. "That feeling was based in magic. Please let me come with you."It suddenly occurred to him; how many times had Merlin warned Arthur about coming danger, but could only say so much? How many times had he been ignored?

Arthur looked to his knights and his wife, then shrugged and headed down the hall, Merlin trailing after him.

~ooOoo~

Arthur strode into the council chambers. It was deserted save for Morven and Edlyn who stood before the long table that took up most of the room. They bowed as Arthur approached and Merlin took his place off to the side. Morven was wringing a small scroll in his hands and Merlin shifted anxiously. Something had happened and he didn't figure it was too good.

Morven's eyes caught Merlin's. There was a weight to them; a mixture of sadness and guilt that made the butterflies in Merlin's stomach become mildly more violent. In contrast, Edlyn stood slightly behind her brother with a beaming smile on her face. She was so happy it unnerved Merlin a little. Arthur stood at the front of the room and smiled at the druids. Merlin's earlier warnings seemed to have little effect on the king's attitude toward the brother and sister. "Morven, Edlyn, what can I do for you?"

Morven stepped forward and indicated the scroll, the sadness in his eyes replaced with a forced excitement. "We sent word to our tribe speaking of your hospitality, and they wish for me to deliver a message on their behalf."

Arthur looked cautiously hopeful and to Merlin's surprise, he glanced to the servant. Merlin nodded at the king and kept his magic at the ready and his eyes on Morven. The scroll didn't seem inherently dangerous. Arthur waved at Morven to begin.

"Your majesty, King Arthur Pendragon, we bring you greetings from the druid tribe of Wylt. For twenty years the druids have warred with Camelot. Many tribes have been wiped out." Arthur gulped quietly and Merlin's heartbeat quickened. "But peace between our peoples is impossible unless an offer of trust is presented by one of us. Therefore, we extend our hand to the Pendragon name." Morven paused and looked at Merlin. For the briefest of moments, Merlin saw something that he could barely identify as the desire to not read any further. Once the moment had passed, Morven took a breath and continued.

"The path to peace is a long one. It is not to be undertaken lightly, nor is it to be undertaken with bad company. We proclaim now that the tribe of Wylt will forever shun the name of Arthur Pendragon!"

Arthur paused. "What?"

Arthur looked up as the large wooden doors to the chambers slammed shut. They could hear the guards outside shouting and attempting to open them from the other side. Merlin looked to Morven and then to Arthur, but something drew his attention; where was Edlyn?

Two thin arms appeared around his torso, one fist pressed against his chest, just below his collarbone.

"Long live Morgana Pendragon," Edlyn breathed into his ear. _"Liff__æ__stan carr!_(5)_"_

Merlin stood frozen for a moment and he glanced down as her hand pulled away from his chest. A light began to shine and heat was quickly gathering where her fist had been placed. Attached directly to his skin was the sparkling red stone that had once decorated Morven's cape.

Merlin screamed.

His limbs locked in pain. It shot through his body as though fire had replaced the blood in his veins. He collapsed in on himself, barely noticing the hard impact of his knees on the stone floor. He took a breath and screamed again.

"Merlin!" Arthur took a step toward the servant but was stopped by the point of a knife held by Edlyn.

Her smile had vanished and her eyes were now filled with a hatred that Arthur had to admit frightened him. "You can never pay enough," she growled through gritted teeth. _"Cyning __á__br__é__otan!(6)" _Her eyes flashed golden and the knife shot from her hand and toward the king. Before it got more than a few feet away from her, however, the knife suddenly disintegrated into harmless sand. Edlyn whipped her head around to look at Merlin. He remained crumpled on his knees, but one arm was held out at her. The other held a white-knuckled grip on the stone that remained at his chest.

Edlyn turned to him and smiled. "It seems we underestimated the great Emrys." She aimed a hand at him. _"Hlaep on_ _bæc!(7)_"

Merlin kept his arm outstretched and Arthur could faintly make out the force of Edlyn's spell dissipate against a blue shield. The king wasted no more time. He drew his sword and charged at the druid. He was intercepted halfway there by a large form slamming into his side and pinning him beneath it. Morven was a large man and quickly maneuvered his limbs to control the struggling monarch. Arthur shouted, but Edlyn didn't even turn to him. He looked to Merlin. Even in his kneeling position, he looked like he could barely hold himself upright. His arm dropped back to his side and he panted a little as though simply holding it out had exhausted him. There was sweat beading all over his face and his eyes swam in and out of focus.

Edlyn took a few steps toward Merlin, still smiling. "The mighty Emrys brought to his knees." She laughed quietly. Her smile suddenly vanished. "You will protect the tyrant no longer!" she cried, drawing out another knife. Merlin's arm shot up again and Edlyn paused in what Arthur could only guess was fear.

"_Áberstan!"_

The window behind Edlyn shattered and she chuckled. "Is that all you can muster, Emrys?" she mocked. She raised the knife again.

A beige blur shot in through the broken window with an ear-piercing screech. Frio descended on Edlyn in an instant, her talons tangling in her raven hair and digging at her scalp. Edlyn screamed and began her thrashing. The bird then swung her head down and began to peck mercilessly against Edlyn' face. The druid shrieked in pain and began waving her arms, attempting to catch the flailing bird.

With Morven distracted by his sister's plight, Arthur managed to kick the large druid off of him. He dashed to his servant's side and looked him over. Merlin still hadn't budged from his place on the floor. His eyes were glossed with pain and fixed on Edlyn. Arthur looked up to the struggle as Morven clicked and chirped at Frio, attempting to calm her down, though this seemed to have no effect. Blood was running down the right side of Edlyn's face in currents to the point that it was obscuring what damage was being done.

Finally, Edlyn managed to grab one of Frio's wildly flapping wings and yanked the bird down, Frio's talons still gripping hair and pieces of skin. Merlin winced as he heard a sickening crack as she did. Frio screeched and Edlyn threw her away before striking her hand out toward her.

"Cursed beast!" Edlyn screeched. Her face was badly mutilated, though it was difficult to see past the copious amounts of blood that continued to run down her face and stain both her clothes and the floor. _"Hlaep on b__æ__c!"_

Frio shot across the hall, her large body slamming into the far wall and crumbling into a heap. Had it not been for the small whimpers he hear, Merlin would have feared her dead.

"Frio!" His power surged angrily and he felt so heavy he had not the strength to stop it from lashing out. He looked at Edlyn. _"Gegegnian __þ__erscelfl__ó__r h__afela __h__æ__gtesse!(8)"_

Edlyn's head drooped and shot to the ground as though it had been thrown. Blood splattered at the impact and then began to pool beneath her. Morven was at her side, attempting to wake her when the large doors at the end of the hall finally burst open and no fewer than fifteen guards spilled into the hall.

Merlin's body leaned to one side and he would have hit the floor had Arthur not knelt and supported him. He pulled the warlock's free arm across his shoulders and stood, feeling the servant go slightly limp. Arthur was carrying most of his weight. Merlin's face was still covered in sweat and his eyes were distant and unfocused. His breath came in shallow gasps and one of his hands remained clutched at his chest.

The guards surrounded the druids, swords drawn. Morven was crouched protectively over his sister, but his eyes held little hostility or resistance.

Arthur pointed at them. "They are to be arrested and put in separate cells," he commanded. He handed Merlin over to a few guards. "Take him to Gaius as fast as you can." He pulled another guard aside and pointed at Edlyn. "Bandage her up as best you can." He glared at her. "I need her alive for questioning."

Once the guards had set about their duties, Arthur dashed to the front of the room where Frio had fallen. She lie on her back, her breathing labored. One of her wings was clutched to her side, but the other was extended and bent in an odd direction at one of the joints. She looked to him and Arthur could almost see the pain in her eyes. As gently as he could, he scooped the creature into his arms and began to follow the hustling guards to Gaius' quarters.

* * *

1: Dance now just as flames with wings. From the episode _Lady of the Lake_

2: I command you to be shaken! From the episode _Another's Sorrow_

3: Break!

4: Here I summon a storm of wind! Sudden blast of wind blow! You, strong and unstoppable storm of wind, obey! From the episode _Servant of Two Masters_

5: Come to life stone!

6: Kill the king!

7: Leap on your back! This is used by Morgana many times in the series

8: The witch's head meets the floor! (Lol I like that one)

Whew! Lots of translations. Lots of magic. :3 I hope you enjoyed! All of the translations of the spells from the series are gotten from the Merlin wiki. The ones I made up myself, I'm sorry once again if I butchered it. lol


	11. Her Awakening

I cannot tell you how excited I am to posting this chapter and the next. I have been waiting to write this bit since I started the story. However bleak things are, fun times are ahead. Fun times.

The writing frenzy has slowed, but it is still around. I still write on my breaks at work and I've spent the entire weekend writing in between clearing out my house for my sister to move in with me. That'll be interesting.

Once again, I thank you for all your reviews, and I hope to hear more of what you all think!

**Reviewer Responses**

Felicity P: Aww, thank you! I'm glad you like it!

EchoRose480: Was that a cry of pain? OO

amberW: My story is kind of my thoughts on an alternate season 5, so I'm glad it's working for you!

Morena Evensong: There was that he didn't have anything to lose, but there's also a part of him that is jumping for joy at the fact that Arthur didn't have him beheaded. I think he honestly didn't know how he would react, but his own guilt over not telling him would expect him to be furious to the point of homicide. I think he would want to reward this with a little trust, and he doesn't want Arthur to find out on his own again. He can tell it hurt him. No... Edlyn is not sweet... nor is she trustworthy. She's a pretty horrible human being. As for the name Pendragon, I got the feeling that the writers were having Morgana use it simply because in a way, it legitimizes her right to the throne should Arthur die. And I'm glad you liked the fight. I was worried about the gore a little, even though I didn't go into a whole lot of detail.

StormQueen6711: Yay! I'm glad!

Mediatrix: Thank you!

flyaway213: Hooray! :)

Ash9: Oh, I'm a big fan of BAMF Merlin. And yeah, that's what her spell means. XD I like the way Old English sounds, but Jeebus it's hard to compose.

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Lots and lots of magic! And I dunno... Frio herself isn't tame. Lol

Rehabilitated Sith: Of course!

Knighted-Geek: Glad you like! :D

lolello: Awww, thank you! :) I actually considered doing the reveal as its own story because there is so much more to this one. I'm glad I didn't though. I think the combination of all the different aspects makes for an interesting time.

Ciara Wynne: Yeah, I had a feeling that out of all of them, Gwaine would be the least in awe/ frightened of Merlin. The two of them have such a comfortable relationship and nothing short of Gwaine watching Merlin put a dagger in his back would convince him there's any reason to doubt him.

1983Sarah: Woo for badassness! All the magic came out at once. XD It had been building, I suppose.

servant123: =^^=

Lady Willamina: Oh Edlyn's colors are all black... and midly stained red at the moment. She's a horrible person, really. I don't know if all of her issues are going to make it into the story, but as the person who created her... she is a horrible person. And I like where your mind is going. :)

I don't own Merlin and here we go!

* * *

Arthur paced in the throne room, his entire body quivering with anxiety. He had been quickly forced from the physician's chambers as Gaius did his work. He and his knights (sans Leon) had confined themselves in the large hall and they were watching their king fidget.

"Sire, I'm sure Merlin will be fine," Elyan assured him, stepping forward. "You saw the amount of power he displayed earlier."

Arthur shook his head. "You didn't see him, Elyan. It was like everything he did took every ounce of his strength."

The knights exchanged various blank looks. They had only just been introduced to the concept of having a sorcerer in their midst- a benevolent one at that- and it was clear they were having difficulty deciding how to react. Gwaine seemed to be the first to make his mind up. He took a step forward to stand beside Elyan.

"Merlin has always been stronger than any of us ever gave him credit for- even before we knew about all this magic business." He smirked. "There's no way something like this will kill him." Percival joined Gwaine and nodded.

Arthur sighed and looked to his knights as the door to the throne room opened, admitting Guinevere and Leon. Guinevere was dressed in a simple frock and she was cleaning her hands with an old rag. "I've done the best I could from what little I remember of helping Gaius. Her right eye is gone, there is no way to salvage it, and she's lost a lot of blood. Gaius will need to take a look at her soon."

"After he has ensured Merlin is alright," Arthur grumbled, his mercy running thin at the moment. Gwen couldn't help but smile a little. Merlin's display of magic had frightened her, but she knew the servant far better to be afraid of him as a person. It seemed Arthur's feelings for Merlin ran as deep as hers. He was a brother as much as any of the knights. "Is she awake?"

Leon nodded. "Yes, but Sire, I'm worried that she will use her magic to escape." Leon paused and he sighed. His forgiveness had not yet been earned. His nights were often haunted by the screams of those burning to death, and the visions of their writhing bodies. Leon's attempt to put out the fires had done little good. But even though he still harbored an anger toward the warlock he said, "Perhaps we should wait until Merlin is well enough to suppress her magic."

"No," said Arthur, striding quickly past the knights. "We don't know what they've done to him. We don't know when he will be strong enough. I need answers now." Guinevere watched him walk past and nodded her head at him.

"Make sure she doesn't hurt him. I don't imagine that she's strong enough to use magic, but still," she said. The knights nodded at her and headed after their king.

The dungeons were unfriendly on the best of days. Somehow the rage built within Arthur wished they were even less so at the moment. His anger at Merlin had been pushed to the side for now. His screams of agony echoed in his head and the manic smile on Edlyn's face haunted him. The amount of glee she took in what she was doing was unnerving; this was extremely personal.

Edlyn and Morven had been placed in cells across from one another, both chained to the back walls of their cells. Unlike the cell Merlin had been in, their wrists were locked directly against the stone, holding their hands at their eye level.

Morven stared at the floor, his legs crossed and his hands balled into fists. Above him, Arthur could see Colsweart scratching and pecking at the metal bars in the window. The bird was far too large to fit through them and Arthur found himself saddened; he mildly wished the bird could sit with his master.

Edlyn sat slumped against the wall, her head covered in heavy white bandages. Only the sickly pale left side of her face remained exposed. She was shivering, but that same satisfied smile remained on her lips, mocking him. Sweat dripped down her face and her eyes moved to stare at the king.

Arthur did his best to throw her his own mocking smile. "You're not looking your best, Edlyn," he growled.

Edlyn shrugged weakly. "You'd be dead if it wasn't for that damn bird."

Arthur moved closer to the bars of her cell. "They never have liked you, have they?"

"Far smarter than you, _Sire_," she spat, saying the word like it was a swear. "You trusted so easily."

Arthur said nothing for a moment. His trusting nature had gotten him in trouble several times. Would he ever emerge from beneath the heavy blanket of betrayal? "What did you do to Merlin?"

Edlyn smiled and pursed her lips, glaring at the king. Arthur paused for a moment before deciding to go a different route. "Then why did you do this? Why would you attack me and my servant?" Even after Merlin's display of power, Arthur wasn't sure he was ready to accept that the mythical figure of Emrys and the warlock were one and the same.

Edlyn seemed proud to answer. "You may keep a warlock as your pet, Arthur Pendragon, and you may even make peace with the druids." Her smile disappeared and her eyes grew icy. "But magic will never flourish as it was meant to under your rule. Uther's hatred of magic has infected you like a disease. The only way for my kind to live freely is for Morgana to take her _rightful_ place on the throne! I was honored when she chose me for this mission!"

Arthur took a moment to steady his breath. How could he still be surprised that his half-sister was behind the attack? How could he not have suspected that she would attempt to sabotage his peace talks with the druids? He glared at her through the bars again. "You will tell me what you have done to Merlin."

She laughed. "Oh will I? Go and consult your precious Taliesin! Ask your scrolls what is to come. Without the ability to cower behind your sorcerer, you are not long for this world."

Arthur drew his sword and pointed it at her throat through the bars. "Tell me what you did, druid."

"I have fulfilled the hopes and dreams of thousands over the ages. I do not fear death. In fact, I will meet it with honor, Arthur Pendragon," she said with more strength that Arthur figured she could muster in the state she was in. She stared into the king's eyes, as though daring him to put the blade through her neck.

"I'll tell you."

Arthur spun and he could hear Edlyn growl behind him. Morven looked at the king, his eyes weighed down with a mixture of emotions.

"Morven!" shouted Edlyn. "You would betray the tribe?!"

Morven glared at his sister. "I would." He looked back to Arthur. "Colsweart and I share many things. He is my partner and I trust him more than anyone else in this world." He looked up at the window, whose light was partially blocked by the hawk. "He told me of you."

Arthur looked at the bird as well. Colsweart had adopted a similar pose that Frio had when Arthur went to question Merlin; his wings outstretched and his beak open wide. "You can speak to him?"

Morven shook his head. "Not in the way you would think. He shows me things in the way he feels, in the way he acts, and the things he does. I can see things through his eyes." His eyes suddenly filled with guilt. "I have seen why you are the Once and Future king, Arthur."

"Then why did you let this happen?" Arthur demanded, his anger returning.

The guilt in Morven's eyes vanished and was replaced by pain and a deep rage. "Because the massacre you lead on my village killed my two sons."

Arthur's anger faded once again and he took a step back. Only one of the massacres during his father's reign had he lead. He owed more to the druid people than he could ever repay. Like the child, how long had the anger and loss been stewing within Morven's mind? He thought to the loss of his father and the amount of rage that had filled him. Had he any concept of the pain he had caused the day he lead the attack?

"More than anything I wanted you to pay for taking my boys." His voice was steady but tears streaked from his cheeks. The look on his face made Arthur believe that he was crying in rage as opposed to loss. "The only way to make you pay, was to remove Emrys. His protection has thwarted many an attempt to kill you."

Arthur sheathed his sword. It was strange hearing the concept from someone other than Merlin and his own mind. The hazy memory of the orb of light illuminating his path through the dark cave and the strange occurrence of Morgana being unable to cast her magic were the only proof Arthur could recall of Merlin's magic. He shook the thought off. "You will tell me how to save him?"

Behind him, Edlyn screamed in rage. "This betrayal will not go unpunished, Morven!"

Percival growled at her and unlocked her cell. The large man walked in and gently struck her in the head, his blow softened by the thick bandages. Even that was enough force for her injuries and her eyes swam for a moment before her head rolled forward and she was asleep. Gwaine stared at him for a moment and then smiled. "Well that's certainly no way to treat a lady." Percival rolled his eyes.

Morven took a breath. "The stone that was attached to Emrys is called the Emrys stone."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said-!"

Morven cut him off. "I lied. I could not risk you becoming suspicious of us." Arthur growled under his breath. "The stone was designed specifically to incapacitate Emrys."

"Why would anyone do that?" demanded Gwaine. "I thought the druids saw him as a great man."

"There was a seer in ancient times. A man named Myrrdin. He worshiped the dark magic and he foretold of a time when magic blood would fill the land like an ocean. He told a story of a hawk, a tiger, and a fox. The tiger; the tyrant kings Pendragon who would crusade against all of magical blood. The fox; the witch Morgana who covets his kingdom. And the hawk; the powerful Emrys that would protect the tyrants and allow more magical blood to be spilled."

"What about the eagle?" asked Arthur to the surprise of his knights. Morven also seemed a little taken aback that the king had once read the prophecy.

"The druid tribe of Wylt. Myrrdin crafted the net that would eventually ensnare Emrys and tasked our tribe to defeat him when the time came."

"And I assume that the stone is part of that net," muttered Arthur, more to himself than to the druid. Morven nodded. "What will it do?"

"The Emrys Stone that is attached to him now is one part of a whole. As time passes, the stone will absorb all the magic of his body until there is none left. He is far too powerful to simply be killed by such an object, but once he is emptied of all magic, he will fall into a deep sleep that will last forever."

Arthur paused and looked to his knights, unable to hide the concern and slight panic that filled his eyes. "Then we must simply remove the stone," he announced, looking to Morven for confirmation.

But the druid shook his head sadly. "No force that you possess could remove that stone now that it is attached to him, My Lord. It will not release until its job is done." Arthur glared at him. "Even if his body was burned away, the stone would remained connected to his soul."

Arthur drew his sword again, almost out of habit. His anger at Morven despite the druid's cooperation made him grit his teeth and holding the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white was comforting, if only a little. Morven felt remorse for what had happened, and yet he had allowed it. However sympathetic he was to the loss of his sons and the love of his sister, Arthur could hardly forgive him for what it had allowed Edlyn to do.

"Then how do we save him?" Arthur demanded.

"Morgana is hidden away in a cave to the south, though I know not where. I think she suspected that I would betray her, but she needed me to win Emrys over. She feared that he would see through Edlyn, but with my connection to Colsweart and Frio, she was confident that I could lower Emrys' guard."

Arthur growled. "It seems it worked, although Merlin was doubtful of you both."

Morven smirked. "I suppose it was a bit silly for us to assume he wouldn't notice. He has been protecting you for years." Arthur placed the point of his sword on the ground and leaned on it and the bars of Morven's cell, motioning for him to continue. Morven took a deep breath. "Wherever Morgana is, she has with her three elders of my village. In order for the stone to work, great power must be poured into their half of the stone. With Morgana's help, the elders have begun the process of trapping Emrys' magic within the stone. If the spell is to be broken, all three elders must be killed and their half of the stone recovered. Once the two halves are reunited, all that is required is for Emrys to touch it and he will be restored."

Arthur sighed and his mind began to spin with the implications of the danger that would be waiting for him if he were to locate the cave. He could hardly leave Merlin to his fate, but would it be possible to defeat such magic?

"Be wary, My Lord," continued Morven. "I have little doubt that Morgana has plans for Camelot once you have left to find the stone."

His mind spun again. How could he leave his city with an attack imminent? "How long does Merlin have?"

Morven shrugged. "With the amount of power he displayed even with the stone's repression, I would say no more than a few hours."

Arthur looked to Morven, and the druid met his eyes. The man truly didn't have an answer as to what Arthur should do. The king glanced to the window and then turned to his knights. "I am going to see Merlin. Remove one of the bars so that the hawk may visit his master."

~ooOoo~

"Gaius, don't!" cried Arthur as he opened the door to the physician's chambers. The old man looked up, a blade in his hand, having been ready to cut the stone away from Merlin's body. The sorcerer sat on a bench with a piece of cloth stuffed into his mouth. Arthur raised an eye at this.

"Sire, we must remove the stone before it kills him," argued Gaius.

Arthur shook his head and walked quickly to take the blade from him. "The stone will not come off until the spell has been broken, and he isn't dying." He looked at Merlin again and yanked the cloth from his mouth. "What's this for?"

"It was to keep him from breaking his teeth once I began cutting," said Gaius with an unnerving amount of calm.

Merlin looked barely conscious. He was leaning back against the table behind him and his lids didn't seem like they could raise more than halfway up his eyes. His skin was pale and clammy and his breath was labored.

"And how could you know this, Sire?" asked Gaius. Arthur quickly explained the conversation with Morven and Gaius fixed him with a stare. "Are you certain that Morven can be believed?"

Arthur considered explaining the druid's motivations, but it pained even Arthur to think about them, and so he simply said, "Yes." After a moment, he looked around. "Where's Frio? Is she alright?"

Gaius nodded. "She is fine aside from the broken wing. I bandaged it, but had to lock her in Merlin's room to keep her from trying to 'protect' Merlin from me." Arthur smirked. Gaius sighed and then looked to his ward again, placing a hand on his forehead. "Merlin, can you hear me?"

"'Course I can, Gaius," breathed Merlin.

"What can be done, Merlin? Can you think of anything?" asked Arthur, placing a hand to his mouth in thought.

Merlin slowly craned his head until his eyes found the small cot at the side of the room. He pointed at it. "Dayla."

Arthur looked to the sleeping druid girl and then back to his servant. "Dayla?" he repeated.

"Her name," said Merlin. "She told me... to beware the one with the corrupted mark."

Arthur looked to Gaius as though requesting the translation of a foreign language.

"Druids have the ability to communicate with only their minds, and Merlin has this ability too," explained Gaius. "That is how he discovered her name."

Arthur looked to Merlin. He had a feeling that many more secrets were hidden within the warlock's power. "But how can she help us? She's still-!" Arthur cut himself off.

_"For your sword," she rasped, pointing weakly at him._

_Arthur shook his head. "What do you mean? What is this for?"_

_Her eyes closed and then opened like a long blink, heaving a breath. "You will need it to save him."_

Arthur suddenly turned and dashed out the door and headed into his chambers, startling Gwen as Elde was strapping her into a gown.

"Arthur!" cried Gwen. Elde stopped her work to turn to the king and bowed low.

"Your highness!" she cried.

Arthur didn't acknowledge them and began opening every cupboard in the room, searching through their contents. "Elde, there was a small golden piece that looked like a spider. Do you know where it is?" he asked, not looking away from his work.

Elde hurried to a small chest and opened it, revealing a plethora of jewelry and hairpins. "I thought it one of Milady's pieces, however strange it looked." She pulled the small piece from the box and Arthur swiped it from her hand.

"Thank you, Elde!"

Gwen questioned about Merlin's well-being, but Arthur vacated the room without an answer. He ran back to the chambers to find Gaius easing Merlin into the chair beside Dayla's cot. They looked up when the king entered and he showed them the golden piece. "Dayla said that this was to save him. If she knew what Morven and Edlyn were doing, maybe she was bringing this to help us."

Gaius examined the piece. "But what is it for?"

Arthur shook his head. "I haven't any idea. She said it was for my sword, but the hole in the center isn't large enough to fit over any part of the hilt, and even then I don't understand the legs." He poked one of the thin projections.

"I know why she still sleeps," said Merlin, his voice weak, "even though her body has mostly healed." He placed a hand on her chest. "A druid curse... it feels the same as Edlyn's presence."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "She could probably give us the answers we need."

"And she will," muttered Merlin. Before Gaius could grab him, Merlin began to speak. _"Ic liesing úre slúma awierigung.(1)"_

His eyes flashed golden and Gaius grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around. "What are you doing, Merlin?" he demanded. "You are weakening yourself further!"

Merlin's eyes were closed, but he smiled. "Someone must look after the king," he whispered. "Lord knows he can't look after himself."

Arthur swore under his breath and pushed Merlin back a little then put one arm beneath his shoulders and the other under his knees. He pulled the light man into his arms and wandered over to one of the examination tables. He lay Merlin on his back and sighed. "You've always been an idiot, Merlin," he repeated. "Only now I know you're a magical idiot. Morven said you only have a few hours. You probably just cut that time in half."

Merlin smiled again, his eyes still closed. "More than that, I'll bet. Edlyn's pretty skilled."

Arthur slammed his hand down on the table. "Will you stop acting like everything is alright?!" he cried.

"Did you think I would act any differently then when I was cut down by that horseman?" Merlin asked. "I'm surprised you are so worked up."

Arthur hung his head between his shoulders. "I know what's going to happen to you. This isn't something that Gaius can simply take care of."

"Surprised it didn't happen sooner, with all the things we've faced." He sighed. His smile faded and Arthur turned to Gaius, who held a hand against Dayla's head.

"How long until she wakes?" he asked harsher than he had intended.

Gaius didn't seem to notice his tone. "Shouldn't be long."

Arthur leaned against the examination table and crossed his arms. "I don't know what I should do, Gaius. I can't very well leave Merlin like this, but if I leave and Morgana has some plan, Camelot could be in danger."

Gaius stood straight and shook his head. "It's hard to say, Sire. The Wylt tribe has been working toward this for centuries. It is quite a well-thought out trap."

Arthur stared at the physician. "That's not really helping, Gaius." The man shrugged.

The king turned back to look at Merlin. "What if she doesn't have a way to save you, Merlin. What then?" The servant didn't answer and after a moment, Arthur's heart quickened and he grabbed his shoulder. "Merlin!" Even after shaking him and calling his name, Merlin didn't stir. Gaius shuffled away to grab a small bottle and uncorked the top. Thin wisps of smoke lifted out of the bottle and he held it beneath Merlin's nose. Even then, the warlock didn't stir.

Arthur turned and punched the wall with his bandaged hand. He swore loudly and eventually leaned his forehead against the cold stone. He had just begun to learn all of the things that Merlin had done to keep him safe. How was it that now that the situation was reversed, the king was helpless? "We have to do something, Gaius," he murmured. "Merlin is the worst servant in all the five kingdoms because he is the best friend I've ever had."

"My Lord!"

Arthur turned at the sound of the young voice and saw Dayla sitting up in her cot staring at him. She scrambled to her feet and bowed. "I am Dayla from the druid tribe Viliane."

Arthur nodded and stepped toward her, putting a hand on her small shoulder. "I know who you are, Dayla."

The girl smiled at him, but then frowned and looked to the table where Merlin's still form lay. She hurried to the side and stood on a box to get a look at him. She placed a tiny hand to his pale face. "Emrys has already gone," she said sadly. "I have slept for too long."

Arthur shook his head. "It isn't your fault. You came to help us, didn't you?"

She turned and nodded. "My tribe has long protected the tomb of the evil seer Myrrdin."

Arthur sat in a chair and Gaius moved to sit on the cot. "The one who prophecized about the hawk, eagle, tiger, and fox," he recalled.

She nodded. "In his madness and evil, he crafted two items that could be used to bring about Emrys' downfall. The æmtignes and the Emrys stone. Knowing that those who had forsaken the ancient ways would be deprived of their ability to recognize Emrys, the æmtignes would allow them to identify him, and the stone would be used to render him useless as a protector. When he died, the stone was buried with him for safekeeping. However, a group of druids from the tribe of Wylt attacked village after village, looking for the tomb. They finally found it at my home." Tears filled her eyes. "The job of protecting the áhredding has belonged to my family for generations. We were all conditioned to protect Emrys and Camelot as Taliesin instructed. But... my mother and father..." She trailed off and tears streaked down her cheeks.

Gaius enveloped her in his arms and she sobbed quietly into his chest for a long moment. Once she had calmed herself, she looked back to Arthur.

"Edlyn mentioned Taliesin... who is he?" asked Arthur.

She scrubbed tears from her eyes and smiled as though Arthur were the light that chased away the cold night. "He was the light to Myrrdin's evil. He spoke of Albion's rise to prosperity and the Once and Future King who would lead the way. He developed an item of his own." She pointed at the golden item in Arthur's hand. "The áhredding, meaning salvation."

Arthur looked at the item and then held it out to her. "What does it do?"

Dayla took it and said nothing before turning to Merlin again and plucking the stone away from his chest with ease. Arthur looked to Gaius. "How did you remove that?" asked Gaius.

Dayla looked at the stone and flipped it around in her hands. "Once its work is done, it is released from his body so that Myrrdin's followers can hide it away and ensure that Emrys never again wakes." Arthur and Gaius exchanged a look and Dayla pressed the gem into the empty setting in the center. She folded her small hands over it and closed her eyes. _"Géanhwurf tó cyning Emrys. Bredan lætan galdorcræft áhredding(2)."_

Behind her lids, Arthur could see her eyes flare and a bright light shone suddenly from her hands. She held a hand out to him. "Give me your sword, Arthur Pendragon," she commanded.

Under most circumstances, Arthur would consider it an affront. He was rather attached to the weapon he had received to prove that he was the true king (though Merlin told him that story... he had to wonder now if it was true). But now, he could hardly question the small girl and unsheathed his sword, handing the hilt to her. He could tell she had difficulty holding it up in her small hands, but she pressed the golden piece to the center of the hilt. Each of the legs locked tightly around it, one fitting around every place where the grip joined the guards. The light dimmed and Dayla smiled, handing the weapon back to him. The gem sparkled on the hilt of his sword and he could immediately feel the change in it.

"Excalibur..." he whispered. Gaius looked at him. "That's the sword's name," said Arthur, staring in awe at the blade. "It's as if... it's alive." Never had a sword felt more perfect in his hand. It was as though it belonged nowhere else in the world.

"When dragon's breath and magic's might meet on the silver plane," recited Dayla. "The Once and Future King will hold the sword of evil's bane. Excalibur."

Power radiated down his arm. He could feel his heart beat stronger. Arthur looked to her. "Will this give me the power to kill the elders that protect the other half of the Emrys stone?"

Dayla nodded. "It will. It was made to save him." Her eyes widened as though she had suddenly forgot something. "There is one other thing I should tell you, My Lord." Arthur looked to her, but before he could speak, he stopped.

"_Ohh... my head."_

There was no mistaking the voice.

"Merlin?!"

* * *

1: I release the curse of slumber.

2. Emrys returns to his king. Let his magic become our salvation.

How you like! Tell me what you think! Lots of revelations. The conclusion of a lot of foreshadowing, though not all of it. I still have plenty in store for you lot! See you soon!


	12. His Problem

You guys have no idea how long I have been waiting to write this part of the story. XD I'm gonna have a lot of fun with this, and I hope you do too.

I've had this chapter written for days, but again, I was having trouble feeling that the emotions were right. I called upon my friend Tom and my sister again and I'm pleased with how it came out. Bit of a long one. Enjoy!

**Reviewer Responses**

DragonLordEmrys: I'm glad it is holding your interest. :)

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Yoooouuuu'll seeeeeee.

AmeliaKaitin: Thank you. :)

amberW: Generally, it's a messy process of things dumping out of my brain unbidden and me trying to frankenstein them together into something that resembles a plot.

Felicity P: Aww... thanks!

shadow visor: I'm so glad you like it!

Jossy99: Ooh, all is not as it seems. :3

1983Sarah: I was thinking everyone had forgotten about her. Lol. She been down there a lot. I love Dayla. She's so cute and plot-convenient.

servant123: Was that a good or a bad oh my? XD

Ash9: I always figured that if Merlin found that he was going to die, and there was no way he could save himself, he couldn't be too torn up about it. Not to say that he wants to die, but he is so dedicated to his purpose and so used to facing death that it no longer really bothers him. I get the feeling that the only thing that would be on his mind would be to make sure someone was there for Arthur. As for the druids, I always thought it was interesting that the druids... all of them... were waiting for Emrys to arrive. No matter how united the minds of a people may be, there will always be dissenters; people for whom he is not acting quick enough.

Carri007: Really? Thanks!

ebonypol: *flinches* Okay! :D

digiwriter1392: Lol, Merlin's been in Arthur's head for years. As for now... you'll have to wait and find out.

Morena Evensong: That was a big fun point for me. The poem that I made up had to sit in the back seat for 11 chapters, and now it finally gets used. XD

blackcallalily: Will dew!

I don't own Merlin and here we go!

* * *

There was no doubt in Arthur's mind whose voice he had just heard, but Merlin's eyes remained closed. He shook him, but there was no response. "Merlin?" Behind him, Dayla chewed on her lip, deciding to let the king figure it out on his own. It would be rather difficult to explain anyway. "Merlin!" Arthur cried again.

"_Not so loud, Dollop-head."_

Arthur stared at Merlin's still form. His lips had not moved, though the voice spoke. He turned to Gaius. "You heard that, right?"

Gaius was looking around the room. "I did, Sire. It was most certainly Merlin."

"But he's asleep."

"_I don't feel asleep."_

"How do you feel, Merlin?" Gaius asked to the air.

"_A lot better, actually. Though... a little light-headed."_

"Your lips aren't moving," said Arthur, staring at Merlin's face like he expected it to spring to life.

"_Are they not?"_

"Not at all." He spun, placing the point of his sword down and leaning on it. "Where are you?"

"_I think I'm in front of you, but all I can see is your leg."_

Arthur looked down at his feet. There was nothing there and so he looked to Gaius. The physician looked as confused as he did. "Are you a spirit, Merlin?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "A spirit, Gaius?"

"Well, one possessed Elyan," offered Gaius.

"_I don't feel like a spirit. And why am I so short?"_

"Perhaps if you tried moving around or pushing something in the room?" suggested Gaius. He heard Merlin grunt with effort, but nothing seemed to move. He glanced to the king as Arthur suddenly lost his balance on the sword and fell to the floor.

"_Now I see the ceiling. And I see you Gaius. It's as if I'm lying at your feet."_

Gaius looked down and nearly jumped back at what he saw. Arthur scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off as his face heated up. He leaned on the sword again as though to prove he was unafraid of the same thing happening twice. "Sire... look at the blade of the sword," said Gaius with a strange mixture of perplexity and awe in his voice.

Arthur tilted his head for a moment before flipping the sword up and staring into the polished metal. He nearly dropped the sword at the sight of Merlin's blue eyes staring back at him. It was as though he were looking through a window to where Merlin was standing on the other side.

"He's in my sword... Merlin's _in _my sword!"

"_I'm what?"_

Dayla nodded. "Emrys' magic is unique. He does not simply _have_ magic... he _is_ magic. Into the stone was not only drawn his magic, but his soul as well. The áhredding has allowed Emrys' soul and magic to be contained within the blade, giving you the protection and power that will be needed to keep your kingdom safe."

Arthur stared between Merlin's eyes and Dayla's small frame before shoving the sword into its scabbard.

"_It's dark in here"_

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur growled at his hip. He knelt to look at Dayla. "How am I supposed to leave with Morgana possibly enacting a plan to overtake Camelot?"

Dayla smiled. "That is why I was sent here, My Lord." She wandered to the window and looked out. "It has always been known in my family that one day Emrys would be threatened and that if anything happened to the tomb of Myrrdin, we were to bring the áhredding to the king." She turned to look at him. "Just as my family has had this mission for centuries, so too has the Wylt tribe been plotting Camelot's downfall to the evil Fox. If the kingdom is to survive this onslaught, the Once and Future King will require the protection and power of Emrys. I was trained specifically to help protect Camelot when the king must leave and save him."

Arthur stared at her. She was so small and young. How was it that he was to entrust his kingdom to such a youth? "How can you do that?"

She dug into her pocket and produced a blue stone that greatly resembled the red one that now decorated Excalibur. "This is the gem of Taliesin. It was developed by my tribe more than three hundred years ago to help us guard Camelot. It will not last long, but hopefully it will keep the threat at bay long enough for you to return."

"_Hopefully?"_

Dayla sighed. "I must supply the gem with my own power. I can only hope I can sustain it long enough."

Arthur's heart dropped into his stomach at the uncertainty of her statement, but he could suddenly feel Merlin smile. _"You have great power, Dayla. I could sense that the minute I touched you."_ Dayla blushed. _"But even so... I would like to offer another form of help to ensure that the enemy does not reach Camelot; Kilgharrah."_

Arthur looked confused, but Gaius looked up. "The great dragon?"

The king glared at the blade. "The creature that almost destroyed Camelot once before?"

"_Under my command, he will not harm a single person in your kingdom, Arthur."_

Dayla smiled. "I would be honored to work alongside the great Dragon."

Arthur seemed less confident, but he sighed. If it was possible to add to his city's defenses, he would take it. "So how do we talk to him?" he asked. "Do you just mind-speak with him, too?"

As Merlin answered, Dayla turned and vanished into Merlin's chambers, shutting the door behind her.

"_No, I must call him."_

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, that will go over really well with the lookouts."

"_You underestimate me, Arthur. I speak with him near the city all the time."_

Arthur stared at the sword again before shoving it back in the sheathe. "It's amazing how much you've gotten away with over the years."

"_I don't talk with him right outside the walls. There is a clearing near the south tower that is hidden by trees. That is where I meet with him."_

Arthur considered how frightened he was at the discovery that something as large as the dragon could land so near without detection. A moment later, he walked to the door to speak to the guards outside. "Send for the queen and Sirs Leon, Percival, Gwaine, and Elyan."

"_What are you doing?"_

Arthur slammed the door shut as fast as he could. "You mind not talking in front of the guards? It's bound to seem a little magical, considering there's no one around to be speaking."

"_Oh, that could have been coming from inside the chambers."_

"Just do as your told for once, Merlin," groaned Arthur.

"_Alright, but like I said, what are you doing?"_

"If there is going to be a dragon flying around in the sky above the city, I would rather my best knights know that it means them no harm. The panic that would ensue could possibly destroy the city from within."

"_Makes sense, but what are you going to tell the rest of the soldiers?"_

Arthur shrugged. "We'll think of something."

Merlin's laugh bubbled out of the blade._"You have a lot more confidence in that than you should, Arthur. Do you have any idea how many times I had to come up with a way to explain away my magic... and you believed me? I don't imagine everyone is as gullible as you, Sire."_

Arthur yanked the sword from its scabbard again.

"_Whoa!"_

The king smiled. "So you can feel when I move the sword?" He flipped the sword around in his hand a few times. "Seems a nice punishment for comments like that."

"_I don't know... this is kind of fun."_

Again, he could feel Merlin's smirk and he growled. He grabbed the hilt as though he were wrapping his hands around someone's throat. He then began to shake the sword back and forth violently. "What about this? Is it still fun?"

It was at that moment that the door opened to allow Gwen and the knights to enter. They stopped at the sight of Arthur shaking his sword. Gwen took a step forward, as though she were approaching a madman. "Arthur, are you alright?"

Arthur stopped and shoved the sword into its sheathe once again.

"_Ow!"_

"Merlin?" called Gwaine, looking around at the sound of his friend's voice. He spotted the warlock's prone form on the examination table. He and Guinevere dashed to their sleeping friend's side. "Are you alright?"

Elyan, Percival, and Leon seemed to notice that the voice had not come from the direction of the table and looked into the air.

"_I'm fine. Just stuck."_

"Why aren't your lips moving?" asked Gwaine, raising an eyebrow and staring at Merlin's face much like Arthur had just previously been doing.

Arthur waved his hands and stepped toward the table. "Merlin has already fallen into the sleep that Morven spoke of."

"If he's asleep then how can we hear him speaking?" asked Gwen, looking to her husband.

"It's a bit of a long story, but he is in my sword." He patted the top of the hilt.

"_Please don't do that, Arthur. It feels... weird."_

Arthur removed his hand.

"_In_ your sword?" repeated Leon, staring at the hilt. Arthur nodded and withdrew the weapon again, holding it horizontally so that the group could see the eyes staring from within it.

"_I'm glad to see that everyone is alright after what happened in the council chambers."_

Gwaine was clearly having difficulty reconciling the separation of Merlin's personality and body and seemed a little off-balance, looking between Merlin's eyes in the blade and the sleeping servant on the table. Leon, Elyan, and Percival didn't seem to be able to conjure a reaction, and settled for listening to the conversation until they could come to terms that what surrounded them now was rather real.

After taking a moment to ensure this wasn't some bizarre dream Gwen stepped forward. "Edlyn has lost her right eye. It seems Frio is quite the fighter."

The affection that swelled in Arthur's chest could easily be traced back to the sword. It felt strange; feeling another set of emotions.

"_She is indeed. I didn't expect her to sense the danger from out on her hunt."_

Arthur sheathed Excalibur again and crossed his arms. "We can talk about all this on the way. We need to get moving."

"Where are we going, Sire?" asked Elyan, turning and heading out the door. Arthur did not explain, but ushered them all outside.

It took quite a bit of time for the group to get their horses together. Arthur floundered a little, finding someone to get everything ready now that Merlin couldn't. The king spent most of the journey explaining all that they had learned from Dayla. As they approached the clearing, Arthur heard Merlin snicker.

"What are you laughing at?" demanded Arthur.

"_Just thinking about our trip down south. Do you even know how to set up camp on your own? Much less cook?"_

He heard a few more quiet snickers behind him and turned in his saddle to glare at the knights behind him. They all held straight faces and Arthur spent a moment attempting to discover which of them had laughed. He turned back to the front and rolled his eyes. He was certain that setting up camp would be simple enough, simply taking longer without the servant. He knew how to do everything, but having an extra pair of hands was helpful. The cooking was another matter. He shrugged it off, refusing to let Merlin know he'd made a point.

"I'm sure we can find someone who can cook," he assured him, loud enough for the knights behind him to hear.

"I can cook a little, Sire," offered Percival. "Not too many things, but it should serve its purpose."

Arthur smiled proudly. "You see, Merlin? We'll be fine."

"_If you say so."_

The group tied the horses a ways behind the treeline and headed into the clearing. In the distance, the south tower loomed and Arthur glared at it accusingly. "You'd think someone would have noticed."

"_Be glad they didn't. Kilgharrah has helped me a lot in saving your royal backside."_

Arthur drew the sword and held it up. "We're here, what now?"

The sword began to vibrate and the power flowing down his arm increased in power. The cry from the blade split the quiet air and Merlin's roar made the knights flinch and back away slightly.

"_O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!(1)"_

The power that had been building in Arthur's arms did little more than dissipate as the cry died away. There was silence as the cry ended and the group stared at the sword in slight wonder, not entirely sure what to expect.

"Um... was something meant to happen?" asked Arthur.

There was a long pause that followed, and Arthur felt Merlin's confusion._ "Something's wrong... he's not responding to my call."_

"What do you mean?" Arthur demanded. "I thought you could command this beast!"

"_I can! It's just..."_

Merlin's bolt of realization hit Arthur in the gut.

"_It's the sword. My magic is so free-flowing, I have none of the control I normally rely on."_ Arthur looked into the blade. _"You will have to utter the spell, Arthur."_

Arthur stared at the sword for a long moment, trying to work out if his servant was serious or not. "You want me to what?" He looked back at his knights, though they didn't particularly look like they had any answers for the king. "You want me to cast magic?"

"_I want you to cast my magic."_

"Are you thick?" asked Arthur glaring into Merlin's eyes. "How in the world am I supposed to do that?"

"_Relax. I will cast the magic through your incantation. All you have to do is recite the words."_

"Recite that hullabaloo you just shouted?"

"_It's not hullabaloo. It's the call of a dragonlord."_

"Whatever it is, how am I supposed to even say it? I haven't the faintest idea what you just said."

"_Then I'll teach you."_

The next several minutes passed as Merlin recited the incantation word by word and Arthur did his best to repeat it. The knights spread around the area, leaning against trees or taking a seat on the grass in boredom. However, soon it was clear that the king couldn't quite wrap his mouth around the odd sounds. "This is hopeless," groaned Arthur, sighing and standing as the sun began to set. "Even if I did manage to say all that, I'd still have to memorize it. This isn't going to work." He turned toward his knights and was about to walk to them when he stopped. There was something niggling in the back of his mind, as though someone were poking the back of his head. He placed a hand on the affected area and then looked at the sword. "Is that you, Merlin?"

"_Yes."_

"What are you doing?"

"_Trying something."_

"You're fiddling with my brain without permission?" Arthur demanded indignantly.

"_Oh please, I put your pants on you every morning and I draw baths for you. This is hardly the most privacy-invading thing I've done for you."_

Arthur blushed and his wife snickered. "What are you trying?" The king received no answer as the blade he held flashed golden. Arthur suddenly threw his head back, a roar coming from his throat, _"O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"_

Arthur stumbled after the cry and stared wide-eyed at the knights and his wife. "What in the hell was that?!" he yelled at the blade.

"_Hey, it worked!"_

"What did you just do?!"

"_Borrowed your voice."_

"How did you do that?" laughed Percival.

"_By fiddling with his mind."_

"Make him say something silly!" prompted Gwaine, his eyes sparkling.

Arthur pointed at his knight. "This is not a game! I'm a pompous arrogant cabbage-head!" He placed a hand on his mouth and glared at the sword before shoving it roughly into its scabbard.

"_Ow... not so hard."_

Gwaine roared with laughter, and Percival attempted not to join him. Leon failed to see the humor in the little exchange and Gwen and Elyan were fighting to contain their smiles.

"Did it work?" asked Arthur through gritted teeth.

"_Yes. I can feel him responding. He is close."_

"What will happen when he finds out what has happened to you, Merlin?" asked Leon. He wasn't sure he was ready to face the great beast again, not with his knights' deaths so readily in his mind. "Will he be angry?"

"_Don't worry. He knows that none here have the power to do this to me."_

Arthur looked to the clear skies and to the moon before sticking the end of his sword into the ground and sitting down in front of it to wait. Around him, the knights and Guinevere scooted closer and settled themselves again.

"He will help us, won't he?" asked Elyan of the sword.

"_He will. He must do as I command."_ Guilt entered his voice. _"I have forced him to help me before. Hopefully that won't be necessary again."_

Arthur scooted closer to Guinevere and wrapped his arms around her as she shivered in the cool night air. "Perhaps... we could claim an illusion," he muttered in thought. His head perked up as Merlin's words sunk in. "Wait, 'hopefully'? Is there a reason he would refuse?"

There was a pause as Merlin seemed to think it over.

"_It's possible. Kilgharrah has spent the last several years keeping out of the sight of humans. He knows that if his breed is to remain, no one must know that he still lives."_

"But what is he afraid of?" asked Leon. "What would such a mighty dragon have to fear?"

"_Arthur."_

The king looked up. "Me?"

"_The druids aren't the only ones afraid that you will fall back into Uther's ways."_

Arthur glared at the sword. "You didn't tell him otherwise?" he asked with no small amount of accusation in his eyes.

"_He knows you aren't your father, Arthur. But that doesn't mean that you are completely ready to accept magic yet. You are keeping my secret because you don't know what to do with me, after all."_

Arthur had to concede the point. Even holding Excalibur in his hands- a weapon of powerful magic, magic that was clearly no more evil than any of his knights- he could barely wrap his head around the idea of a benevolent sorcerer. He was trying, but every instinct that he had developed was warring against it.

A great shadow passed over the clearing and the sound of beating wings drew all eyes upwards. Eyes around the clearing were drawn to the massive figure silhouetted against the moon. It turned and dived toward them, the knights leaping to their feet and holding the hilts of their swords for comfort. Arthur pulled Excalibur from the ground and did his best to stare unflinchingly at the dragon. He felt Gwen scoot closer to him and he gently held one of her hands. The wind from the dragon's flight hit them suddenly until Arthur had to turn his face away. By the time he looked back, he was staring into the great golden eyes of the beast. They were far more intelligent than he had assumed. The last time he had seen this creature had been during its wild rage against his city, driven by nothing other than hatred and vengeance. The eyes he stared into now were so far removed from such emotions that Arthur could scarcely believe they belonged to the same beast.

Arthur had to catch his breath as the dragon looked him over. Behind him, he could hear his knights shifting anxiously. The dragon seemed not to mind. In fact, something of a smile came over the beast's face.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, King Arthur," said the dragon.

His voice boomed deep in Arthur's chest. The creature could talk. Truly, where was the monster that had killed dozens of his knights and people? This creature was intelligent, controlled... and beautiful. The moonlight skipped along his scales as he shifted and breathed. His eyes were deep and wise. Arthur managed a small smile and straightened his stance, attempting to look as diplomatic as possible. "And you, Killgera."

The dragon chuckled. "Kilgharrah," he corrected.

Beads of sweat began to appear on Arthur's brow. "Of course. My apologies."

Kilgharrah looked toward the sword and if he had eyebrows, the look in his eyes told Arthur he would be raising one of them. He lowered his head until his massive jaws rested on the grass, his eyes focused on both Arthur and his weapon. "An interesting predicament you have found yourself in, young warlock."

Arthur was suddenly overcome with a sense of familiarity, the calm spreading from the fingers held around Excalibur's hilt all the way to his feet. He felt himself relax in the beast's presence, as though they were old friends.

"_Yes. Apparently the druid tribe of Wylt has been plotting against me for quite some time."_

"It would appear," said the dragon, raising his head again. "It seems Myrrdin's followers have joined with Morgana to bring about the destruction of Camelot, and Albion with it."

"I am traveling south to retrieve the other half of the Emrys stone that confines Merlin to the sword. One from the tribe of Viliane has said she has the power to protect Camelot, but I fear for my people," said Arthur, taking a step forward.

"You would ask me to help protect your lands, King Arthur?" asked the dragon with a hint of humor in his voice.

"I would," said Arthur. When the dragon said nothing for a moment, Merlin piped up.

"_He asks on my behalf, Kilgharrah. I don't want to have to command you."_

Arthur looked to his sword in astonishment at the amount of authority in his servant's voice. This threat to the dragon of forcing him to assist them was one that held weight.

Kilgharrah bowed a little. "That will not be necessary, Merlin. I will protect Albion."

Arthur waved to his knights. "My men will be fighting on the ground should Morgana's people get through the magical defenses. They will tell the people of the city that you are an illusion, cast by Morgana to incite panic. Hopefully that will allow you to remain a secret."

The dragon smiled. "Thank you, King Arthur." Arthur swore he saw pride in the creature's eyes for a moment before a wave of the same emotion passed from the sword and into him. The dragon smiled again. "How times have changed, my young king." Merlin's affection swelled in Arthur's chest again. "You are destined to be far greater than your father."

Arthur had difficulty crafting a response to that. The magical entities of the kingdom surely thought of his father as an evil tyrant, but Arthur could have no such feelings. However familiar Merlin was making him feel with Kilgharrah's presence, he wasn't sure he was about to object to one of his statements. He settled for a smile and a nod.

The creature spread his wings and crouched to take off. "Below in the vaults of Camelot, you must retrieve the _H__é__afodw__óð_; the voice of the dragonlords. With it, your druid friend will be able to summon me when I am needed." Arthur was nearly blown off his feet as Kilgharrah launched from the earth and quickly gained altitude.

"_Thank you... old friend."_

Arthur looked to the sword and though Kilgharrah was already far out of earshot, he somehow knew the dragon had heard.

* * *

1: O dragon, permit the appeal for an audience to speak here, fierce, wise-minded one! Come to earth! From the episode _The Sorcerer's Shadow_. Translation from the Merlin wiki page.

Okay, I want to say something witty and fun, but I am exhausted and I'm gonna go to bed. Hope you've enjoyed it! Leave a review and let me know what you think!


	13. His Decision

Hooray, still moving along. More exciting parts to be written in the next few chapters, so looking forward to writing those. I think we are in the home stretch. We are about 2/3 of the way through the story and then the plot can stop banging in my head. XD

**Reviewer Responses**

Guest: Your review was all detailed and stuff, I feel bad that I don't know who you are. XD And yeah, I always thought that Excalibur in the show could use a little bit more magic in it. Frio? Oh she'll be along soon. You'll see. :)

Morena Evensong: Yay! More unexpectedness! And nah, no shying from silliness. Merlin feels completely fine now, and hearing Merlin speaking so easily put Arthur's mind to rest a little bit. I think it was refreshing for both of them to not be in pain and/ or panic. As for Kilgharrah, I think he might have found it interesting but I think the ramifications of what was coming probably stole all the humor in him.

ravenwriter101: Oh things are going to be veeeery interesting. So excited for writing Merlin-sword!

Lush: No problem! Thanks for reading!

blackcallalily: Thanks! :)

Yami no Serena: Lol! You have no idea how long I've been waiting to write this chapter!

1983Sarah: Yeah, we were due for some humor. Everyone's been tense for several chapters. XD

IvoryOak: Congratulations! Um... you win... the... the metaphorical equivalent of this candy-wrapper on my desk! Wooo!

flyaway213: GRINS!

Lady Willamina:Oh he nearly peed himself. XD It wasn't just that the words were foreign, they were also accompanied by a roar. Lol

Can't think of anything else to say, so...

I don't own Merlin, and here we go!

* * *

It was far later than intended when the king, queen, and knights arrived back in Gaius' chambers. The physician looked up from his potion table when they came in.

"I checked on Edlyn," he said. Arthur looked a little disinterested, but Gaius continued. "She has more than twenty deep cuts on her scalp, and she's lucky she didn't lose both eyes. Whatever Frio was eating before she attacked wound up inside the wound so there is an infection. I'm trying to treat it, but the infection and the blood loss might be more than she can come back from."

Arthur glanced to the open door of Merlin's chambers, where the servant's body had been moved. He could find little sympathy for the bitter woman. Dayla suddenly appeared from Merlin's bedside and hurried toward the king.

"Did the dragon agree to help?" she asked anxiously.

Arthur smiled at the small girl. However nervous he was about his kingdom's future, this girl warmed his heart. She had escaped a massacre at her village and run to the city on foot to deliver what could be their only salvation from the trials ahead. Despite all her suffering and work, she asked for no reward. She seemed simply happy to help. He knelt before her and nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes. Kilgharrah will be ready to help when you need him," he said.

She beamed and dashed from the room and back into Merlin's, a spring in her step. Gaius rounded his potion table to move toward the king, glancing over his shoulder at the girl.

"A strong girl, to be sure," mused the old man.

Arthur nodded. "Indeed she is." He looked to the physician. "The dragon mentioned something that Dayla will need to summon him; the _Héafodwóð_?"

Gaius nodded in recognition. "'Voice' in the language of the Old Religion. It was considered to be the voice of the dragonlords themselves. Uther acquired it from a dragonlord elder, I believe."

Arthur nodded, relieved that the physician seemed to know the object. "Alright then." Dayla jogged back out of Merlin's room just then, waving at something behind her.

Down the steps hopped Frio, seemingly reluctant to leave the room. Her broken wing had been splinted, but she flapped it with little trouble (other than the weight) as she attempted to keep up with Dayla. Arthur smiled and drew the sword, placing the tip on the ground in front of him to allow Merlin to see the bird. The druid girl drew to a stop in front of Arthur and looked at Excalibur.

"_Frio!"_ cried Merlin. The bird stopped in her tracks and cooed at the sound of her warlock friend, looking around as though she had forgotten she left him in his chambers. She began meandering around the physician's quarters, checking under each table and on each shelf, clicking and calling quietly as she did.

Dayla beamed again. "I have healed most of the break. She will still need time to heal, but she is no longer in pain."

Arthur felt Merlin's relief wash over him as he watched Frio move easily about the room. It was intense enough that the king figured he would have shed a tear if he could. A jibe popped into his head about Merlin's rush of emotion, but considering the bird had saved their lives, he swallowed it.

Something suddenly changed in Merlin and Arthur could feel him staring at Frio. The bird suddenly perked up and floated down to stand in front of the blade, pecking at it a little and tilting her head from side to side. Merlin's thoughts were directed at her, though Arthur couldn't comprehend the message for a moment. When he finally did, he found that there were few words involved in Merlin's message. He was communicating a concept.

_Protect Dayla for me._

Frio looked around the room again, back to the sword, and then to the girl. After a moment, the bird hopped over to Dayla and nuzzled her leg until Dayla stooped to run a hand along her back.

Arthur smirked at the communication that had not been lost without the presence of Merlin's body. It seemed he truly had lost the gift that Morven gave him. His thoughts began to drift to the man in his cells, but he quickly redirected them and turned to his knights.

"According to Dayla, if Camelot is to survive the approaching attack, we will need Merlin's help. I will leave in the morning to travel south and find Morgana," he announced. There was a surge in energy as all four knights moved forward a little, their eyes wide with concern at the concept of the king venturing out on his own. Arthur held out a hand before they could speak. "I will not be going alone. Percival and Gwaine, you will accompany me on the journey. Leon and Elyan, you are to stay and ensure that Guinevere has all the help and information she needs to ready the city for siege."

Gwen smiled. "I've seen my fair share of sieges on the city, Arthur. I will be fine."

Arthur nodded. "I'm sure you will, Gwen, but I want you to have all the help and protection you need should the magical defenses fail." He turned to Dayla and smiled. "Not that I fear they won't." His smile dropped. "But I don't trust that we know the entirety of Morgana's plan." The girl stood straight and nodded. He looked back to his knights. "We will leave at first light. Merlin-!" He caught himself.

"_About to ask me to ready the horses, were you?"_ asked Merlin. Arthur tried to ignore the smile the servant sent him.

Arthur refused to answer the question. He looked to Gwaine. "Go to the stables and have three horses prepared for a long journey." He turned to Percival. "Go to the kitchens and retrieve food for the trip." The two knights nodded and hurried out.

"_Speaking of, how exactly do we plan on finding Morgana? All we know is that she's in a cave south of here. With the mountains, there's a slim chance we'll just happen upon her."_

Arthur was stumped. This was something that needed done, and so he had readied himself. It seemed suddenly strange that he wasn't entirely sure where he was going.

Dayla spoke before the king could formulate an answer. "Emrys, can you not feel it? You have a connection to the spell; and to the three druids that cast it. Open your thoughts, and your magic will show the king the way."

Arthur felt a rush of energy. It was as though he had taken a deep breath, expanding his lungs to the fullest. It was exhilarating. Every muscle in his body felt energized and ready to move. But as the energy built, he became light-headed and leaned on the sword for support. He felt Gwen grab his arm to steady him. Suddenly, the hilt pressed into his palm began to slowly rotate, spinning slowly on the point of the blade below it. Arthur looked down at the blade as the gem moved to face south. For a moment, he could almost see a thin thread of gold running from stone and disappearing into the south wall. He looked around, but the others didn't seem to notice the thread; their eyes were all on him.

The light-headedness turned quickly to disorientation and he stumbled a little. It was like he was just returning to his room after a feast and a generous amount of wine. He pointed at the south wall where he had seen the thread disappear. "It's that way," he said, clearing his throat. He tipped to one side and both Gwen and Dayla helped steady him.

"Careful, Sire. Emrys' magic will be a little overwhelming at first," said Dayla, glancing down to the blade.

"You're telling me," he muttered so only he could hear. He wasn't about to admit that his servant's simple expression of magic had so affected him. But even though the after-effects had turned to such disorientation, his mind drifted to the initial exhilaration. He had never felt anything like it. It was like bathing in pure power. It made him feel like shouting happily to the heavens as nature itself embraced him. There was no end to it. The cloud of power seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. It filled him with energy and confidence; like he could do anything in the world.

The very fact that the intelligence of his servant now inhabited his sword proved, if nothing else, that Merlin was possibly the incarnation of magic. His mind twirled with the faces of all those magical creatures and people that had caused him pain over the years. How could the wondrous magic around him be the same as that of those? There was nothing but good and beauty in Merlin's magic.

He shook off the thoughts. What was he doing in awe of Merlin? That was not how things worked around his palace! Although, Arthur figured that a great deal was to change once they came out the other end of all this. Assuming they did.

Having let Arthur wonder at his magic for a bit (He wasn't going to say anything to ruin the moment. After all, this was Arthur's first encounter with purely good magic) Merlin caught Arthur's last thought.

"_We will make it through this, Arthur,"_ he assured him. _"We always do."_

Arthur looked at the sword and then sighed, sliding it back into its sheathe. He felt heavy and tired, as though coming off the effects of wine and he gave a long yawn. He glanced to Dayla and Gaius, placing an arm across Gwen's shoulders. "I probably won't see you tomorrow before we set off, so I want to say thank you, Dayla. I think I owe you more than I could ever repay." The small girl blushed for a moment before dashing forward and wrapping her arms around one of his legs in a hug.

"Mama told me stories about you," she said quietly. When she looked up at him, Arthur could see tears in her brown eyes. "She said that one day you would set us free."

Arthur felt Merlin's emotion as well as his own and he struggled not to tear up as well at the small girl's words. He settled for patting her on the back. "I promise I will, Dayla."

She released him and he looked to Gaius. "Take care of her," he commanded. Dayla beamed and trotted over to stand next to the old man, taking one of his fingers into her small hand. Frio shook herself and followed her.

Arthur could feel Merlin think at the bird, but he didn't bother trying to decipher it. He was too tired, and his mind too full to attempt to sort through anything coming from the sword at the moment.

He put an arm around Gwen's shoulders and nodded to Elyan and Leon, who headed out the door. Arthur looked back to Gaius. "We should get some sleep. We will be up early tomorrow." Gaius and Dayla bowed as the two left.

The walk up to the royal chambers was a quiet one. Arthur kept his arm around Guinevere's shoulders throughout and Merlin remained quiet. Arthur could feel the servant's anxiety trembling at his hip, mixing with his own. The combined emotions made his heart pound in his chest. His mind raced with all that was about to be set in motion. The amount of planning that had gone into this attack of Morgana's frightened him. It was not only her plan, but the plan of druids going back centuries. He had little doubt that Dayla had spoken the truth; that Merlin would be needed for this fight. The fact that so much had gone into restraining him was proof enough of that. But no matter how much he wanted Merlin at his side, the idea of leaving Camelot with such a threat looming above terrified him. Even though he had sent his knights to prepare for the journey, his mind constantly tried to present scenarios which would allow him to remain in Camelot whilst others went to face the druids and retrieve the stone. No matter what his mind presented him with, he was continuously brought back to the sword itself. Every fiber of his being rebelled at the thought of another holding it, and he wasn't sure why.

As soon as the door to their chambers closed behind the king and queen, Merlin spoke up.

"_You're not abandoning anyone, Arthur."_

Guinevere turned to look at the sword and then up at her husband. Arthur leaned back on the door and sighed. "You're wrong," he muttered. He stared at his feet until Gwen stepped up to him and placed a hand to his face. "I know I said I would leave, but I don't think I can." He motioned to the window that overlooked the courtyard. "How can I, when I know what is coming?"

His wife grabbed his chin gently and pulled it to face her. "You're not abandoning your people, Arthur. You are ensuring their safety." She placed a hand on the hilt of Excalibur (Merlin held his tongue about the weirdness of the caress). "There is no one here that would doubt that you can return in time." She poked his nose. "Except you."

Arthur conceded a small smile and looked down again, his eyes studying the leather of his boots. "It feels cowardly and self-serving," he grumbled.

Guinevere shook her head and placed her hands on his shoulders, holding herself close. "Not at all, Arthur. You are embarking on possibly the more dangerous of the two missions. You, your sword and only two knights to face the strongest of a druid tribe?" She let her forehead rest against his. "Even if it wasn't necessary, this is who you are; both of you. You look out for one another. I've always known how important you are to each other, but now I know that this kingdom cannot reach its full potential unless both of you are at its head."

Arthur smiled again, placing both his hands on her face and brushing her cheeks softly with his thumbs. After a moment, he placed a kiss on her forehead and stepped past her, pulling his sword belt off. "Both of us, eh?" he chuckled. Seeing his mood lifted, Gwen grinned and vanished behind the changing screen. "You sure having Merlin around won't bring the city tumbling to the ground?" The king pulled the sword from its sheathe and placed it in its holder against the wall.

"_What happened to all that awe from earlier?"_ asked Merlin with a chuckle of his own.

Arthur stopped and his cheeks flared a light shade of pink. To his horror, Gwen stuck her head out from behind the screen to see the color change. She laughed and vanished again.

Arthur looked to the sword and pointed at the gem. "That was not awe, Merlin. That was... surprise," he fumbled.

"_No...no I've seen you surprised. That wasn't it."_

"Shut up, Merlin," groaned the king, pulling his shirt up and over his head before tossing it off to side and onto the floor.

"_First of all, I'm short a few hands at the moment, so you might want to pick up after yourself for a few days."_ Arthur gave the sword a glare, but decidedly did not pick up the shirt. _"Secondly, your threats are a bit empty at the moment. What are you going to do, throw things at me? Give me more chores?"_

Arthur leaned down to look directly into the gem, his hands behind his back and a wicked smirk on his face. "No... but keep in mind, Merlin, you have to come out of there sooner or later." Merlin said nothing as the king stood straight and crawled into bed. After extinguishing the candles that Elde had lit earlier in the night, his wife joined him. He wrapped an arm around her and leaned back against the pillows. She snuggled against his chest and he placed a kiss into her thick black hair.

"Don't leave the guards for a minute while I'm gone," he muttered against her head. "I want you safe while I'm gone."

Gwen raised her face to his and planted a kiss on his lips. "I'll be fine, Arthur. I'm more worried about you. I want you safe as well."

Arthur kissed her again. "I'll be fine. I've got a jabber-mouthed sword at my side. What could possibly go wrong?" He pressed his lips to hers again and held her closer.

"_You guys know I'm still here, right?"_

Arthur smiled in spite of himself and sat up a little to glare around the bed curtains at the hanging sword. "Go to sleep, will you?"

"_I'm a sword. How on earth do you expect me to go to sleep?"_

Arthur groaned and fell back against the pillow, Gwen giggling at him. She gave him one last kiss before shifting to her side of the bed and snuggling against her pillows. Arthur turned on his side and placed a hand around her waist before placing one last kiss below her ear and breathing, "I love you."

~ooOoo~

The king tossed and turned throughout the night. Several times he stirred to the sounds of crashing and bumping as though his mind were playing out various worst-case scenarios for their upcoming journey. When he woke, however, he discovered that the reason for the sounds was something entirely different.

The morning felt strange. Merlin was not throwing open the curtains with his usual annoying morning energy. The smile on his face usually did little more than enrage the sleepy king. This morning, though the sunlight was the only thing that woke him. He squinted at the light and looked toward the window, trying to judge the time, but found himself with an odd question.

Why were the curtains drawn away from the window?

The lit candles in the room the night before was evidence that Elde had been in to prepare the room for the night whilst the king and queen were down in Gaius' chambers, and the servant was currently not in the room as a glance to the foot of the bed confirmed. Elde was far too fastidious to have failed to close the curtains. As he came round, he found that the slightly open curtains weren't the only thing out of place in the room. He glanced to the blankets that covered him and found that several shirts lay haphazardly across him, along with a few pairs of breeches and one or two belts. He looked to the desk.

The candlesticks that normally stood on either side of his desk had been toppled over and one now sat on the seat of his chair. He sat up quickly, placing a hand on Guinevere's shoulder to ensure she was still there. Had someone broken into his chambers in the middle of the night?

Wait... the wardrobe was missing.

Across from the foot of his bed where normally stood his large wardrobe was nothing but the stone wall. He wrestled himself from under the covers and peered over the edge of the bed to see that the piece of furniture was lying face down with its doors wide open like a dead man laying spread eagle. He glanced to the rest of his chambers and nearly fell off his bed and yelped a little bit.

The dining table had been turned on its side and balanced, in a very unnatural manner, on top of the two top legs were four of his chairs. Along all of the walls were stacked bowls, plates, pieces of armor and various pieces of silverware that stood erect on their ends like little soldiers guarding his room. Every piece of clothing that he and Guinevere owned was spread over the entirety of his chambers, one of Gwen's dresses hanging from a corner of his bed canopy. Around this time, Gwen sat up and began to look over the room with the same awe and confusion as her husband. Her eyes fixed, along with Arthur's, on what was floating above the table and chairs. One of his clay pitchers was hovering in the air, surrounded by four brass goblets. The pitcher poured water slowly into one of the goblets and another scooted in to take its place. They watched as all four goblets were filled and then lifted higher to pour the water back into the pitcher.

As the pitcher began to pour again, it suddenly vaulted toward him, with a cry from Excalibur.

"_Arthur! Thank the gods you're awake!"_

The pitcher slammed into one of the bedposts and shattered, dousing the king and queen with very cold water. There was a loud commotion as the four chairs balanced on the table suddenly fell to the floor and every piece of silverware clattered onto its side. The four goblets dropped out of the air and clanged against the ground, scattering across the floor. The doors flew open at the commotion and two guards raced in, stopping short at the state of the chambers. They glanced this way and that, looking to Gwen sitting on the bed (averting their eyes quickly since the queen was in her night attire), and then to the shirtless king, who was stumbling out of bed and attempting to cross the littered floor. The guards exchanged a look and then stared at the king.

"Is everything alright, Sire?" one asked, wringing his spear in his hands.

Arthur waved them off. "Yes, I'm fine. Leave me."

The hostility in his voice was enough to send the guards fleeing.

"Merlin!" the king cried, stalking over to the sword. As he got closer, he began to feel Merlin's sheepish grin. "What the _hell_ are you doing? Did you do this to my chambers?"

"_Have you ever sat completely still and wide awake for seven hours?"_ Merlin demanded. _"Do you have _any_ idea how bored I've been waiting for you two to wake up?"_

Arthur spread his arms wide and motioned to the room. "What on earth happened?"

He could feel Merlin glancing around the room. _"I thought I would pick out your clothes, and then... well the wardrobe kind of... burst."_ He silenced meekly for a moment, as though expecting a violent outburst from his king. When Arthur did nothing but stand and fume, Merlin continued. _"My magic is so free now. I thought I would entertain myself. But it seems... it's a little uncontrollable in this raw state. My words aren't physical enough for me to use spells on my own, but I can still __do the magic I don't need spells for."_

Arthur pointed to the floor. "Well, you better get that magic working and clean this place up!"

Gwen giggled softly and began sorting through the mess, looking for a gown of some kind that she could put on without help. She glanced to the sword. "Merlin, there is a blue dress somewhere, do you um... know where it went?"

For a moment, Arthur felt Merlin pondering. Then, from the far side of the room, a simple blue frock rose from a particularly large pile of shirts and floated erratically toward Gwen. The queen caught the dress and smiled. "Thank you."

"Don't thank him!" Arthur cried, pointing now at the sword. "He's the one who did all this!"

"You mustn't be hard on him, Arthur," laughed Gwen from behind the screen. Arthur fumed again as he could feel the self-satisfaction radiating from the blade. "You would go mad if you had to do nothing for so long."

Arthur glared mildly at the screen and then looked toward the smiling sword. He gave a huff and motioned to the room. "Just... find me something to wear."

From behind him, a red shirt flopped over his head as though it has been tossed and a pair of breeches wrapped around one of his ankles like a snake. Arthur growled loudly and made his way over to the bed, having to jump over the wardrobe as he did. He replaced the black trousers he wore to bed with the breeches and jumped when the wardrobe to his side creaked as it was slowly righted. He grabbed his comb and began to work it around his hair as Gwen sat down at her vanity and began to brush hers. The clothes began to float awkwardly over to the bed, eventually creating a pile. The table righted itself and the chairs were lined on the side opposite the large doors. The silver utensils clanged loudly again as they were lifted and dropped onto the table along with the wooden bowls and plates.

Arthur crossed his arms as his boots landed ungracefully at his feet. He glared at the sword and could feel Merlin giving him a proud smile. Arthur sat on the bed as best he could and slipped them on. "Not exactly tidy though, is it?" he grumbled.

Guinevere smiled. "I'll have Elde arrange things. It will be fine, Arthur."

"_Thank you, Gwen,"_ said Merlin, a broad smile hitting Arthur in the head. He threw a deadly glare at the gem.

The rest of the morning contained little conversation. It was a flurry of activity as the rest of the palace prepared for a normal day and the king and his knights prepared to depart. The queen's calling of an emergency council meeting also had the rumor mill buzzing with activity, the betrayal of the druids on everyone's tongue and fear of war on their minds. Arthur had little inclination to tell them they were mostly right. Barely an hour after the chaos in the royal chambers, the king, Percival, and Gwaine rode out of the southern gate with little fanfare. The fewer that knew the king had even left, the better, but the stealthy exit left a bad taste in Arthur's mouth all the same.

The ride itself was quiet and fast-paced the first day. There was little chatter except for Arthur occasionally demanding that Merlin show him the golden thread again. There had been no sign of Morgana or any druids nearby, but since Arthur's leaving did fall into their plans, he wouldn't find himself surprised if an ambush was waiting nearby. The king avoided the main roads, the thread leading them mostly in a straight line. Oftentimes, it pointed directly into thick impenetrable brush and they had to rely on a map and their knowledge of the area to circumnavigate it.

Excalibur was sheathed and hung safely at the side of Arthur's saddle. Merlin's unease bled into him and they kept the ride silent even long after the towers of Camelot had vanished behind the trees and mountains. The magic that had been crying to Merlin every time he stepped outside since the attacks on the druid camps had suddenly gone quiet. Had his confinement within the sword affected the nature around them in some way? However self-important that sounded, he truly felt that the screams of the druids had been a warning, their magic reaching out to him to tell him of the impending danger.

He let his magic bathe the area. He had never felt so free. His magic spread along the ground like an invisible fog, touching plants and hidden animals as they went. He could feel the beat of an insect's wings as it buzzed near Arthur's horse and the thumping of a deer's heart as it heard the group pass.

Arthur's entire being tingled. He could feel Merlin's power wandering about the area. An irrational part of his brain worried that someone might see the invisible haze and discover them. The hours spent with Excalibur sheathed at his side and his repeated requests for guidance had already gotten him well used to the feeling and it no longer disoriented him. In fact, he was overwhelmed with curiosity.

The world of magic had always been a feared thing. Since the Purge, very few sorcerers remained within his grasp that could help him understand a people such as the druids. Unable to discover how to approach them due in part to this lack of understanding, Arthur had been elated to find that the druids had extended their hand first. With the exposure of Morven and Edlyn's true motives, he had first felt that peace was now out of his reach.

But now there was Merlin. Arthur had never before tried to breach the wall that his father had built between him and the understanding of magic. Even if he had the desire to, he hadn't the first idea how to begin. Uther's purge had been extensive, only saving things that could aid him in his cause or things which were too powerful to destroy. Merlin could be able to help him in his understanding. The young man had already done amazing things even since Arthur had discovered him. Perhaps he could help to banish the prejudices that had overcome his city. After all, his own mind had already been changed.

The day passed quickly to the king and his servant as they both got used to the new feeling of Merlin's magic. Though to Percival and Gwaine (who almost fell asleep in his saddle a few times) the day had been long and dull. As night set upon them, they eased up on the speed and quickly found a place to camp. Arthur divvied up the tasks, Gwaine to care for the horses, Percival to start on supper, and himself to collect firewood.

"_There's a nice log over there,"_ mused Merlin from Arthur's hip.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I see it, Merlin."

"_And that area over there looks dry. You should grab some kindling from over there,"_ the servant continued.

Arthur huffed now. "Merlin, I know how to collect firewood," he grumbled, but he did go to the indicated spot and collect the kindling.

"_News to me."_

"Don't smirk," growled Arthur. "I can feel you mocking me."

"_Speaking of which, this feeling-sharing thing is a little strange. Who knew you had this much affection for me?"_

Arthur stomped his foot and bent to pick up a few more logs. "Being trapped in that sword must be making you delirious."

The camp was set up in short order, Percival's cooking proving to be quite satisfactory. The night turned out to be as tense as the day had been. Every crack of a twig was a potential bandit, and every gust of wind was a possible druid. Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and shoved the point into the ground and leaned back on a tree, staring at the small fire that Gwaine had built. The king and his knights chatted a small bit, but it was forced in an attempt to calm their nerves. During a moment of silence, Merlin finally spoke up.

"_You're not angry,"_ he said, directing the comment at Arthur. The knights looked to their king.

Arthur looked to the gem on the sword. "What?"

"_You're not angry with me,"_ the servant observed.

Arthur paused. He almost felt the need to investigate his own emotions. His mind had been such a mixture of pain, anger, concern, fear, and even another's emotions lately, he had to take a moment to confirm the statement.

"I don't suppose I am," he muttered.

Arthur could feel Merlin smile weakly. _"I thought you would be angry with me for weeks if you didn't kill me."_

"I did as well," he mused, allowing a smile of his own. "Now all I can feel is..."

"_Sad,"_ finished Merlin.

Arthur's cheeks burned, and he glanced defensively at his knights. He glared at the hilt. He knew Merlin could hardly help feeling his emotions, but that didn't make it any less uncomfortable. "I suppose," he conceded. He thought for a long moment before speaking again. "You've told me more times than I can count that I will be the greatest king this land has ever known." He fiddled with a small twig between his fingers. "And with all my talk of wanting to be a just and worthy king, you still felt you couldn't share your secret with me." Merlin was silent and Arthur felt a little bit of guilt trickle into his mind. "You didn't trust that I would be fair to you."

Merlin smirked wryly. _"I guess it depends on what you mean by 'fair'."_

"I mean not overlooking your years of loyal service in favor of simply executing you," said Arthur with an edge to his voice. Did Merlin think him that calloused?

"_I guess..."_ Merlin began, struggling for words. _"I didn't think it meant that much to you."_

Arthur laughed. "You're an idiot, Merlin."

With the king's laugh, the air in the camp relaxed a small bit, the two knights watching the exchange with apprehension like two children witnessing their parents fight. But as the king and the sword finished their conversation, Gwaine sat straight and smiled at the gem.

"Merlin, tell us a story," he demanded.

Merlin paused and the king gave him a perplexed look. _"What?"_

"Tell us a story about using magic. Tell us about a time when you saved Arthur's arse and he didn't know it," he requested, ignoring the glare from the king.

Merlin chuckled and after a blithe wave from the king, consented. He spent a while telling the three about Cornelius Sigan, and Sofia and her father. He told of rock slides and falling branches, distractions and breaking enchantments. The three sat enraptured by the stories, laughing at some parts (mostly at Arthur's expense), and waiting with baited breath at others. He spoke until the three could barely keep their eyes open and as soon as silence fell again, they were sound asleep.

Merlin smiled within his magical prison. It was not any measure of self-gratification that lifted his spirits, it was the curiosity and wonder in their eyes that filled his heart with hope. Strides were being made toward acceptance, though they were still far from it.

Being unable to sleep, Merlin had appointed himself as the night watch and blanketed the area in his magic, feeling each movement within his net. He attempted to move a few things around, though his lack of control made it a little too loud for his comfort and so he settled on watching the fire dance upon the wood.

Several hours into the night, his net was disturbed and he was startled out of the trance the fire had lulled him into. They were behind him, to his right, to his left, and all the directions in between. He thought frantically for a moment before laying a thick layer of magic upon the three slumbering ones and speaking in hushed tones.

"_Arthur! Gwaine! Percival!"_

The three stirred and began to wriggle a little when they found they were unable to move. "Merlin!" groaned Arthur.

"_Shhh!"_ hissed Merlin.

"What is it?" asked Gwaine in a whisper.

"_Mercenaries!"_

* * *

Ooh, no Old English to translate this time.

Hope you've enjoyed! Leave me a review and tell me what you think! :)

See you soon!


	14. Their Fight

I am so sorry this took so long! For once in my life it wasn't laziness or procrastination that was at fault! Crazy, right? I honestly had such a hard time writing this chapter. I rewrote sections of this chapter four and five times after consulting one Merlin friend and one non-Merlin friend for help. It was really really difficult. But I love you all and so I forced it out! Surprisingly, I am pretty happy with the way it came out.

Oh! I was so remiss about thanking everyone for all of your reviews, and so all of my chapters have been updated with review responses. If you wanted to see my reactions to something you said or asked, check out the previous chapters to see what I said. :) From here on out, I will be doing review responses every chapter. If you have a question or comment you want me to respond to, just stick it into your review and I will let you know in the next chapter.

I really apologize to all of those who reviewed as a guest, I appreciate your reviews, but unless you leave me something detailed to answer, it would be difficult to tell who I am talking to when I respond. I still appreciate your reviews and if you leave me a name I can use to respond in the next chapter, I will use it! Please keep on reviewing! :) Here are the responses to the reviews for chapter 13!

**Review Responses**

kitkat: Yay! Thanks!

flyawaye213: Ahhhh!

IndiaMoore: Thank you. :)

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: I did want a part that he got to tell them just a few of many times he has saved their asses. XD

AmberW: Yeah, I'm having fun with Arthur's ability to actually feel the magic.

Ash9: Merlin is so used to running around at 100mph all the time, I figured he would almost go insane with nothing to do for that long. The sharing emotions thing is fun too. There's plenty of that stuff to come.

Geckoshan: Oh this story is getting finished. I promise you. :3

blackcallalily: Yay!

IsadoraKayStone: Thank you! :)

Morena Evensong: Merxalibur! LOL I love it!

Linnea.E: Buckets and buckets of wooooords! I haff brought them for you!

Alright! I don't own Merlin, and I hope you're ready for some action! Here we go!

* * *

Arthur struggled against the magic that bound him, looking this way and that for the movement of men, but seeing nothing. He looked to the sword and whispered, "If there are mercenaries, why are you holding us down?"

"_They are on all sides. I didn't want to startle them before you woke."_

Percival nodded in understanding and looking to Gwaine and then to Arthur. The question of how Merlin knew such a thing would be one for after they were safe. They felt the binding magic lift away and then shifted to be ready for a fight. Percival did not sit up, but lay flat and slowly placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Gwaine rolled slightly as though in sleep and grabbed his as well. Arthur stared at Excalibur, hoping he could arm himself without prompting the ambush. He looked to his knights and nodded at them. Some unspoken understanding passed among the men and they all lay still until the shadows of the attackers could me seen in the moonlight. Slowly they crept around the camp, like silent beasts sniffing out prey. Arthur saw one man pause in front of Excalibur, eying it hungrily before he was pulled back to his mission and approached the largest man's bedroll.

Without warning, Percival picked up his sword and ran the man through. Gwaine stood and slashed the one closest to him across the chest. Arthur rolled to dodge a thrown knife and grabbed Excalibur, turning to face three men that had gathered near his bedroll. The king leaped into the fight, slashing at the man at his front. He blocked an attack from his right, then his left before planting the ball of his foot squarely into the gut of the man at his front. He glanced to one side, seeing Percival flipping a bandit into another and slamming his sword down against a small man, who buckled under the knight's strength. Gwaine bounded around the area fluidly, punching one man before stabbing another. He engaged a man with a mace, taunting him before disarming him and slashing him across the chest.

Arthur turned his attention back to the men that surrounded him, a new man having replaced the mercenary he had downed with a kick. He attacked with a yell, going after the man at the right. The other two rushed him, and he rolled out of the way, stood, and plunged his sword into the side of the man he had rushed. He swung his sword in a wide arc to chase back the other two, who stood a few steps away, and then readied themselves to charge again.

"Sire, behind you!" shouted Percival suddenly.

Arthur took a step back to glance quickly over his shoulder, seeing two men with maces running at him. His mind raced to try and come up with an escape, but before he could conjure anything, Merlin said, _"I've got them."_

Arthur felt Merlin's magic well within him, and he turned his attention back to the two at his front. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and Excalibur was expelled from his hand. He felt as though something heavy had landed on him as he hit the ground hard. He saw stars and when they had cleared, he looked up. The two men that had attacked him were lying on their back a few feet away and a backwards glance him told him that the two men ambushing him from behind had met the same fate. Excalibur was imbedded in a tree halfway to the hilt some yards away.

"What happened, Merlin?!" Arthur shouted.

"_I couldn't control it! I just wanted to stop the men behind you!"_

A blade appeared at Arthur's throat and pressure on his chin forced him to his feet. Once he was upright, he raised his hands in submission, but sent a resolute glare at the man holding the blade. He was a large brute with rough hands and a straggly beard, and he gave Arthur a smile that was missing more than a few teeth.

"Lady Morgana has requested that we bring you to her alive so that she can do the honors," he croaked.

Arthur said nothing, his face stoic and emotionless. He gritted his teeth as his position was pointed out by the other bandits and Percival and Gwaine stopped their fighting.

A thud was heard and suddenly Excalibur was in his hand. He glanced to it, decided quickly not to question it, and then attacked with all his strength. Caught off-guard, the large threatening brute only managed to block two of Arthur's attacks before the king ducked and cut his legs out from under him. As the brute fell, Arthur could see a bandit lying a few feet behind him with blood seeping from a wound on the back of his head. It did not escape his notice that Excalibur's hilt was stained with a little blood.

"What did you do?" Arthur asked, blocking an attack from his side.

"_That wasn't me!"_

Arthur turned and stabbed the last of the men surrounding him then spun to look at another large group that was fast approaching. Arthur groaned, then looked at the sword. "Think you can at least direct that blast?" he asked.

"_Probably... maybe."_

The hesitation in his voice did little for Arthur's nerves, but he aimed the tip of the sword at the group of men. Merlin quickly got the message, and sent a powerful blast wave out from the tip. The blast swished harmlessly to the side of the charging men, sending an unfortunate rabbit sailing out of a bush with a squeal.

"Oh Merlin, you are so useless!" shouted Arthur, running at the men himself. The sword suddenly screamed in his head to stop and as a surge of magic punched him in the chest, he felt Merlin grab hold of his voice. "_Ligfyr (1)_!" the king suddenly shouted, his blue eyes flashing a vibrant gold.

A wall of fire exploded upwards in between the bandits and the king. Arthur stumbled back at the heat, and one unfortunate bandit fell through the wall. He screamed as he was instantly in flames. Arthur walked over and stabbed the fallen man in the chest, choosing to put the poor man out of his misery. He looked to the three men that were still scuffling with Gwaine and Percival. They stopped at the sight of the fire, looked at the king and his sword before turning on their heel and fleeing as fast as they could.

Arthur sighed and tossed the sword's point into the ground. "I cannot tell you how strange that feels, Merlin," he groaned.

"_You shouldn't complain."_

The king rolled his eyes and flopped back against a tree, sliding down to sit. "I suppose we shouldn't be surprised. I expected them to attack us some time ago."

"What now, Sire?" asked Percival, he and Gwaine walking back and forth along the borders of their camp, looking for straggling enemies.

Arthur looked to the sky, and then at the dying remains of the fire. "Try to get a few more hours of sleep. It's too dark to travel now." He squinted against the sky, glancing up to the moon sliver and then back to the ground. "Keep an eye open, Merlin. We can't assume those are the only ones out here for us."

The knights nodded and reluctantly sheathed their swords, slowly laying back down on their bedrolls. They lay staring at the sky as they waited for the rush of battle to wear off.

"Merlin, how did Excalibur wind up back in my hand after it was stuck in that tree?" asked Arthur suddenly, reclining on his bedroll.

"_I'm not sure. One minute I'm half-blinded by the trunk, the next I'm flying through the air."_

"Maybe it reacted to your needs or your thoughts?" asked Percival, looking at him.

Arthur shrugged. "I wished my servant hadn't flung my sword into a tree," he said, glaring at the gem.

"_Excalibur was burnished specifically for you, Arthur. It's possible my magic simply allowed you to call it."_

"I could use a sword like that," chuckled Gwaine. "Would be quite useful in the tavern. Can't ever remember where I put things in there."

Percival punched the knight's arm. "Shouldn't be in the tavern in the first place."

"Why Percival," began Gwaine, chuckling and spreading his arms, "that is where the true people of Camelot spend their days."

As Percival shook his head, a thought suddenly occurred to Arthur and he looked to the gem. "Now that I think about it, your trips to the tavern..."

"_I don't know what possessed Gaius to give you that excuse,"_ groaned Merlin. _"I've only been to taverns in search of people. I'm actually quite surprised you never went to any to drag me out."_

"Or asked Gwaine," muttered Percival, earning a kick from the smaller man.

"So all those times Gaius said you were at the tavern, what were you doing?" asked Arthur.

Merlin paused for a long moment, and Arthur could feel him debating whether or not to answer truthfully. Arthur growled at the sword, and Merlin seemed to get the message. _"For the most part, working on getting your royal backside out of trouble."_ He said bluntly. Arthur had asked for the truth.

Arthur gaped for a moment before thinking back to the last time the excuse had been used. "So the two days you were gone were..." He waved for Merlin to finish.

Merlin fumbled for a moment. That story was quite a long one that he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to divulge. _"The short version is that I had to go and find something in Morgana's hut."_

The knights and king exchanged a look and then Arthur said, "You went to see Morgana?"

Merlin sighed. _"I didn't go to_ see_ her. I went to take something of hers that was threatening your life."_

"Oh." Arthur hoped his guilt wasn't trickling into the sword, but it probably was. He had been so angry with Merlin, and the servant had taken it upon himself to protect him. He had even threatened to sack him.

Gwaine couldn't help the proud smile that ghosted onto his lips. "I always knew you were a do-gooder, Merlin, but it seems that you surpass even my expectations. You did all these things and received less than no thanks for them."

Arthur felt some satisfaction at the servant's blush that would have turned the sword bright red if it had the capability. The embarrassment was fleeting and quickly replaced with something that Arthur couldn't remember ever associating with Merlin, but it now seemed that the quality had always been there simply unnamed; humility. It wasn't an entirely foreign concept to the king, but it was something that a royal generally had little use for. Granted, he and Guinevere had a great deal more of it than their predecessors, but Merlin's humility was on a different level. Despite the power and destiny he was born with- the uniqueness of his very being- he thought no more of himself than of any other. More than once Arthur could remember Merlin offering to die for him. What had Arthur ever done to deserve such loyalty? All he could ever remember doing was bullying the man. Albeit, his cruelty spoke to something more of a brotherly relationship, but there were plenty of times when Arthur could remember treating Merlin as far less than he was.

Merlin listened to Arthur's meandering thoughts as he drifted off to sleep. There was both a happiness and a sadness that flowed through him at the king's thought process. Though he never sought reward for the things he did, it was nice to be noticed. It was nice to realize that Arthur was understanding just how much Merlin had done for him. But the king seemed to be taking it the wrong way. The things that Merlin did were out of his own sense of duty and his own values, and thus Arthur shouldn't think of the actions as a burden, as though the king owed him something. Perhaps that would have to be a completely separate issue they addressed later on.

Merlin stayed mostly alert through the rest of the night, only once or twice being lulled by the wind or the glowing of the dying embers. As the first rays of dawn began to light the sky, Merlin glared at the embers and they burst to life, a crackling fire forming in an instant. Soon, the three men were up, fed, and back on their horses, again following the invisible golden thread through the countryside.

The second day's ride was just as hard as the first, but a great deal of tension had been released during their talks the night before. Merlin seemed less an unknown entity and was quickly returning to being their comrade. The magic would take getting used to, yes. But each moment they were bathed in the power that radiated from the gem on the sword's hilt, the more comfortable they felt and the more they felt that they were surrounded by the essence of all that was their friend.

A few hours after midday, the group paused to water the horses and eat a small bit, finding a stream on their way. Percival passed out bread and cheese and they sat down as they let their weary steeds rest.

"Do you not feel hungry, Merlin?" asked Gwaine.

Merlin chuckled. _"No. I imagine I will be when I wake up, though. Can't feel much of anything like that in here."_

Percival shuddered a little at the thought. "Can't be pleasant," he mused.

"_It's not unpleasant,"_ offered Merlin. _"I'm still mostly aware of myself and my surroundings. I can actually see behind me as well."_

"Really?" asked Arthur with a smirk.

"_I can see out of both sides of the blade I suppose."_

Gwaine suddenly stuffed the last bit of bread into his mouth and leaped to his feet, running around to stand on the side of the sword without the gem. "You can see me?" he chuckled.

"_Yes,"_ said Merlin.

"I've always thought of the gem as though it was... your eyes," said Arthur, motioning with his hands.

"_I guess the gem is just how I'm being held in here. I am in the blade itself- yes, I can still see you, Gwaine,"_ laughed Merlin, as the knight dashed back and forth at the sword's back as though attempting to escape his eyesight.

Gwaine seemed to give up on his endeavor, returning to his seat beside Percival and grabbing another bit of cheese. "You make a better night watch than I thought."

Arthur finished off his meal and sat forward, pulling the map from his pack and laying it out on the ground in between them. "How far do you think we are from the gem, Merlin?"

"_I feel we are close, but I'm not sure its the gem we are seeking."_

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"_Remember that Dayla said I had a connection to the spell being cast. Even if we find the gem now, I don't think it would do us any good without stopping the spell."_

"You're saying there's a possibility that the gem won't be there?" asked Percival.

"_I suppose. I wouldn't know. I'm following the only connection I feel right now."_

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Was this only one of two journeys they would have to make? "Can Camelot survive long enough for us to stop the spell and retrieve the stone?"

Merlin was silent for a long time before admitting, _"I don't know."_

There was a painful silence that gripped the group. The concept of Camelot falling was a bleak enough one. Far worse was the idea of Camelot falling without them being there, doing everything they could to defend her.

"_Percival!"_

Percival looked immediately to the sword and watched a crossbow bolt suddenly veer away from his heart and into a nearby tree. The knights were on their feet in an instant, swords drawn. Arthur grabbed Excalibur and began searching around for signs of the attack. The only answer they got was another bolt, veering away this time from Gwaine's head.

The knight let out a breath and looked back at the sword. "Thank you, Merlin."

"_Don't thank me yet."_

There was a pause and Arthur could feel Merlin's eyes sweeping the area. He looked expectantly at the gem, and then up at the trees, his heart racing with the anticipation of where the next bolt would come from. One last bolt was veered away from the group and barely missed impaling Percival's arm. Merlin's horror suddenly dashed up Arthur's arm and hit his heart.

"_Druids... they bring magic with them!"_ cried Merlin.

The expansive net of his magic felt heavy and clouded. Foreign magic was floating around within his own and he grumbled at the clarity it stole from him. Arthur could feel Gwaine and Percival tense up beside him. They continued their scans of the trees and bushes, and yet they saw nothing. There was no movement, no men racing toward them, and no sounds to indicate a direction. The forest had gone oddly quiet.

Gwaine and Percival automatically took up positions on either side of Arthur, all three sets of eyes glued to the surrounding forest. Arthur's eyes glanced across their horses, who seemed somewhat oblivious to the danger they were in and he briefly wished he could mount one and simply continue their journey and avoid the fight. The chances of the enemy allowing such a thing were rather slim. He could feel Merlin's magic moving and probing the area, looking for the invisible attackers. He struggled not to let himself panic as his anxiety mixed with Merlin's.

Arthur suddenly turned as an image flashed into his mind. He stared at a tree many yards away and he could feel Merlin's magic welling against it. At Merlin's silent suggestion, Arthur buried the sword's tip into the earth and looked up at the tree, his eyes flashing a vibrant gold. There was a deathly silence.

A loud crack exploded through the forest and Arthur watched as the top of the tree trunk emerged from among the leaves of the indicated tree. Every single branch connected to the trunk suddenly snapped away and plummeted to the ground. A scream was heard just before the deafening sound of logs slamming into one another and rolling on the ground. Where the tree had just been now stood a naked trunk, just a tall upright log amidst the large trees of the forest.

Arthur looked accusingly at the sword. "What the hell, Merlin?" he demanded.

He could feel Merlin become sheepish. _"I told you my control is a little... wonky. I meant to just break the branch he was standing on."_

"Nice job of that," hummed Arthur sarcastically, yanking the sword from the dirt and looking around again.

The haze of magic was growing thicker. He could sense the magic building, but nothing was happening yet. Merlin's anxiety heightened, but he forced his mind back to the task of taking down the archers. He could barely feel the breath of a second crossbow-wielder high above a particularly heavy cloud of magic, and sent the information to Arthur as he diverted another bolt aimed at Gwaine's back. Arthur turned and pointed the sword this time at Merlin's suggestion.

"_Ábrecan!(2)"_

Once again, the three were deafened by the explosion of wood and magic. The tree at which Arthur's sword was pointed suddenly gave a violent shudder and quickly began to topple. It dove straight into the ground, the trunk and large branches breaking into countless smaller pieces as though its foundation had simply vanished. They heard no scream, but Merlin could feel the archer tumble to his death from his high perch, and the magic that was gathering below him quickly dissipated.

"Merlin!" shouted Arthur again, staring at what remained of the tree. If there was a single bandit in this forest who hadn't previously known their exact location... they did now.

"_I'm trying!"_ whined Merlin.

The other two points of magic swelled even greater, and Merlin's mind began to race to try and decipher the motives of the hidden druids. However, his pondering was short-lived as he barely managed to divert a bolt away from Percival's head. The last archer revealed, Merlin put the location in Arthur's head and the king turned toward the tree. All three braced themselves.

"_Cierran tó næssa! (3)"_

There was no ear-shattering sound this time. This time two screams cut the still air around them. The man who had been in the tree was of little concern to Percival and Arthur, as the last bolt the man managed to fire had landed squarely in the top of Gwaine's thigh. The knight gripped his leg and dropped to the ground, grinding his teeth and doing his best to retain his grip on his sword. Arthur stooped to help him, but stopped as Merlin's voice echoed around them.

"_Arthur!"_ he shouted.

The magic that had been gathering suddenly burst, sending a backlash that made Merlin wince. The earth rumbled and groaned and all eyes were immediately drawn to the large figure that began to make its way toward them from the trees. The creature stood around seven feet tall and it was slow and lumbering. It possessed wide shoulders but no head sat upon them. The large arms that hung at its sides had no fingers, hands, or wrists, but rather looked like two blunt logs. As it made its way toward them, Arthur turned to see another one heading from the opposite direction. Percival's grip on his sword slackened at the sight of them, but only for a moment. He then deemed the one at their backs as 'his' and moved toward it, positioning himself firmly between the injured Gwaine and the monster.

"_Golems,"_ growled Merlin.

"What the hell is a golem?" demanded Arthur, staring wide-eyed at the creature.

"_Remember the afanc?"_

Arthur's mind raced back to the dark tunnels where they encountered the strange four-legged beast. He looked back to the headless form still making its way toward him. "Oh," he muttered.

Percival bounced on his feet in anticipation as the monster finally cleared the closest bit of brush and rushed it. No particularly vulnerable points on its body presenting themselves, Percival dropped into a slide and chopped one of its legs out from beneath it. The beast stumbled, but merely swung its massive arm out to the side, catching the knight under the chin and knocking him back several feet. As Percival regained his faculties, the monster wobbled a little, the earth rising up to reform its lost leg. The knight rolled his eyes as his one bit of progress was quickly undone. But his attack had done its job; the beast was now focused on him. He scrambled to his feet and backed away as it slowly turned toward him and lumbered in his direction, moving more quickly than it had before.

Arthur ducked as one of the beast's log-like arms swung above his head and rolled away as the other slammed down into the ground, making a nice-sized divot. He chuckled at the beasts slow movements, but he could feel panic rising up his arm again.

"What's wrong, Merlin?" he asked. He leaped to the side and chopped off a chunk of the beasts arm with a single swing of Excalibur, but the creature seemed to barely notice. It swung again, and Arthur had to fall back onto his rear to avoid getting hit. "Your faith in me faltering?" He smirked a little.

Merlin didn't answer for a long moment. The magic that had summoned the earthen beasts was greatly depleted; the druids that had summoned them low on energy. And yet they still gathered more magic to themselves, and Merlin could feel them preparing additional attacks.

"_Percival, duck!"_ Merlin suddenly shouted.

The large man glanced over from where he had managed to slow the creature by placing a tree between him and it. He raised an eyebrow, but quickly obeyed as he felt heat building up on the side facing the forest. As he dropped to the ground, a mass of fire sailed over his head. As the fire made its way through the clearing, Gwaine folded over himself, pressing against the ground to avoid it as well. As the burst of flame now flew toward Arthur, he felt a tug and leaped to his feet as Merlin took his voice.

"_Ceorfan galdorcræft! (4)"_

His eyes flashed golden, and the blade glowed blue. With an urge from the sword he swung the blade upwards and to his shock, the flames split around it as though it were made of water, instantly extinguishing itself. He had barely a second to stare at the sword in wonder before he had to dive away from another strike from the golem.

Gwaine growled and looked down at his offensive leg. He glanced up to his king and then to his fellow knight as they took on massive creatures of magic, and he lay helpless to assist. Or perhaps not...

His eyes widened as they fell on the horses and the nearby stream. He gripped his sword tight and plunged the tip into the earth, using the weapon as a crutch, and hauled himself onto his good leg. He slowly began hobbling toward the rushing water, trying to keep an eye on both fights as he moved.

Arthur felt the sword urge him away from the golem, but the king grumbled and dodged another punch.

"I can't leave Gwaine unprotected, Merlin!" he cried, swiping at the arm that came at him.

"_He's moved off, Arthur! Come on!"_

The king twirled around to see the knight hobbling toward the horses and sighed, doing his best not to mentally admit that the servant was right; he'd hear that after all. Pain suddenly blasted into the back of his head and he flew forward a few feet before he tasted dirt. Stars clouded his vision for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder at the approaching golem and scrambled to his feet, running in the direction that Merlin was indicating.

"Fine! What are we doing?" he asked. A rumbling returned his attention to the golem and he looked to see the creature picking up speed as it pursued him.

"_The druids that summoned them are still attacking. We need to deal with them if we are to effectively fight the golems!"_

Arthur rolled his eyes then looked once more at his attacker. The golem was now sliding along the ground as though on wheels, moving at around the same speed as Arthur.

"Marvelous," groaned the king, turning his head forward again and pushing himself faster.

Beads of sweat appeared on Gwaine's forehead as he hobbled ever closer to the shifting horses and the equipment they carried. He was only a few feet away from reaching them when something struck him from the side and his good foot left the ground. He landed a few yards away and screamed as it painfully jostled the bolt that remained in his leg. Once his vision cleared, he looked up to see a black-cloaked woman with her hand stretched toward him. She took a few more steps forward and began muttering something. Gwaine looked to the horses and forced his good leg underneath him, taking one last glance at the woman. As she yelled in the old tongue, Gwaine launched himself behind the horses with a cry of pain and the ground where he had just been laying exploded. His heart pounding, he forced his legs under him once again and grabbed the piece of equipment he came for.

"I will die before I let any escape, Knight of Camelot!" the woman suddenly cried.

Gwaine laughed at her suggestion. "Escape?" he called, taking a firm grip on the crossbow bolt in his leg and bracing himself. "Not at all." He yanked the bolt from his leg and stifled his scream of pain by gritting his teeth and pursing his lips. Despite the blood that now freely soaked his breeches, he smiled again. "I was merely getting a gift for the lovely lady."

In one fluid motion, he notched the bolt into his crossbow, stood, and fired it straight into the woman's chest. The woman gasped, gripped her chest, and then fell backwards and lie still.

Gwaine held onto the horse's saddle and smiled, his eyelids drooping a small bit. "A fitting gift, indeed," he muttered, giving a wry smirk. He turned and looked to Percival. The large man was effectively slowing the beast as it attempted to move through the trees and brush after him. He threw off the strap of leather that held closed the quiver of bolts that hung from the horse's saddle and grabbed one.

"Percival!" he shouted. The large man glanced to him and side-stepped to allow the bolt that Gwaine let fly bury itself in the beast's chest. The golem didn't seem too particularly bothered by the attack, but it did shift itself a little and made Gwaine feel it was looking at him, despite lacking eyes.

Arthur weaved in between the trees, glancing back and feeling a small bit of relief filling him as he watched the golem struggle to move now that it was not on open ground.

"_Hlaep on bæc!"_

The foreign cry pulled Arthur's attention forward and he could feel Merlin's magic surge. His eyes burned golden and he could faintly see the coming blast deform against a wall of blue. Straight ahead he could see the black of the druid's cloak.

"I don't wish to kill you!" Arthur cried. He could feel Merlin's worry at Arthur's attempt to speak to the man.

"Believe not the lies of a tyrant!" the man cried back. _"Hlaep on bæc!"_ The blue shield dispersed the attack again and Arthur saw the black cloak move off to one side. "My magic protects me, _your highness_," he sneered. "You cannot kill me, or my beast."

"_But I can."_

The druid halted, and glanced around, searching for the source of the voice that boomed in his head. Arthur felt Merlin's magic again and was compelled this time to raise his hand, crying out in the foreign tongue. _"Slæp nú!"_

The druid dropped to the ground. Arthur sighed; he could feel that Merlin had done more than simply knock the man out.

"_He will wake eventually, Arthur,"_ Merlin assured him suddenly. _"I don't know when, but we will be long gone by the time he does."_

A grumbling behind him startled him back to reality and he glanced back to see the golem still making its way toward him.

"_I guess they aren't sustained by magic once created,"_ muttered Merlin.

Arthur could feel his surprise and he rolled his eyes as he darted to his right, intending to make a wide circle back to the clearing where they had camped. "That had better not be your only thought on how to kill them, Merlin!"

Percival slashed the beast across the chest, but another bolt landed in its shoulder, and its attention remained on the one firing them. The large knight growled at the injured one behind him. "Gwaine! You're in no shape to fight this thing!" he cried. Even from the distance, Percival could see the sheen of sweat on Gwaine's forehead and the blood pooling below his injured leg.

"In case you haven't noticed, big man," laughed Gwaine, notching another arrow, "none of us are really in a shape to fight these things." He let the bolt fly, this one landing in the beast's leg.

Percival growled again, looking between the beast, which was now gaining speed as it moved toward the smaller knight, and Gwaine. He suddenly threw down his sword and crouched, summoning all of the strength into his legs and shooting himself forward. He plowed his shoulder into the golem, hitting a surprisingly solid form, and the two tumbled to the ground. Percival barely had time to react when the beast rolled, with quickness that the knight could hardly believe it possessed, and placed itself on top of him. The breath was instantly pushed from his lungs and he pressed all of his strength against its belly. He managed to lift the creature enough to take a breath, but his arms quickly gave out and the monster pressed down on him again. He heard Gwaine cry his name.

"_Áberstan eac æledfýr! (5)"_ he heard Arthur shout.

The point of a sword emerged from the earth on top of him, stopping just a few inches from Percival's face. He was once again pressed into the ground beneath him as the creature exploded around the blade, spinning as though it were being swept by a powerful whirlwind. As the dust settled, he smiled up at his king, whose eyes were shifting from gold back to blue. Arthur nodded and offered a hand to help him to his feet.

"Thanks," sighed Percival, his lungs grateful for the oxygen.

Arthur nodded and gripped Percival's forearm. Arthur felt Merlin roll his eyes at the king's taking of the credit, but chose to ignore him. They heard a cry of pain and their attention was pulled behind them. Gwaine lay on the ground now several feet away from the horses, stubbornly gripping the crossbow and staring up at the golem that had struck him as it emerged from the trees. In desperation he raised the crossbow and took aim as the monster loomed over him with a log-like arm raised to strike.

Arthur's hand flew up, palm aimed at Gwaine. _"Áberstan eac æledfýr!"_ he shouted again.

As Gwaine loosed the arrow as the shaft flashed a vibrant blue, and it vanished into the golem's midsection. As with the first, the earth suddenly tore itself apart around the bolt, spinning violently until there was nothing left but dust in the air.

Silence overcame the clearing for a long moment before Gwaine's laugh echoed around them. He threw his arms out to his sides and lay flat on his back, finally releasing the crossbow. "Whew! I could use a pint of mead... or three."

Arthur dashed to the fallen knight's side and looked him over. He heard Merlin growl.

"_Oh Gwaine, you've lost a lot of blood. Why did you pull the bolt out?"_ he demanded.

Gwaine's eyes were only half-open. "The druid lady needed it," he said with a morbid smile.

Arthur set the sword down and grabbed Gwaine's leg, pressing down against the wound and attempting to stem the flow. Gwaine's yelp of pain was mixed with a wry chuckle.

"_Percival, grab the medical supplies and water skins,"_ ordered Merlin. The large man hurried to obey.

Arthur looked down at the sword. "Think you can walk me through this?"

"_Do we have a choice? I don't really have hands."_

Arthur chuckled a little and Percival returned, dropping the medical bag and three water skins onto the ground beside him.

"Well," mumbled Gwaine, looking at the sky, "this ought to prove to be interesting." He finally closed his eyes as Arthur, Percival, and Merlin set to work.

* * *

1: Fire! From the Episode _The Kindness of Strangers_

2: Break!

3: Fall to the ground!

4: Cut the magic!

5: Burst with fire!

Whew! Hope you guys liked that! Review and let me know what you think! I'll see you soon!


	15. His Resolution

OMG longest chapter yet. A lot of unexpected things happened in this chapter, but I'm pleased with them. I like it when my characters do things I didn't intend. :) It means the story is shaping itself.

Soooo... the world didn't end. That's fun. I woke up in the 21st and texted my friend, "Damnit, still alive." lol.

And, the last episode of Merlin is out tomorrow! Oh god it's ending. :( We shall persevere!

**Review Responses**

GeorgiaEmrys1D: I'm glad you did, too! Thank you very much. I tend to think I'm not descriptive enough. Dialogue is my strength, but descriptions are my weakness.

Mcgee's Secret: Oh I had the same thoughts when I came up with this. I knew there would have to be lots of build-up, but i so looked forward to putting Merlin is Excalibur. Plenty of opportunity for bromance and humor!

Linnea.E: Yay! Thank you!

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: I'm finicky about my fight scenes. I love planning them and I mess with them until I am satisfied. They generally take a while.

blackcallalily: Wish granted! Um... at least... relatively soon, I think.

Omnisession: Tee-hee! Another spur of the moment part.

CaptainOzone: *blush* I love hearing from you. You write my favorite Merlin fanfics to date and it's really exciting to hear that you like mine! I envy your descriptiveness. Using Arthur's voice wasn't actually something that I had planned from the beginning. When I first came up with the story, I just knew that Merlin would be using magic to help and protect during fights that Arthur got into. When the idea of having to borrow Arthur's voice came to me, I ran with it. I'm really glad I did! I'm having so much fun!

M. of the Mountains: Yeah, I'm a stickler for grammar. I actually plan on going back through this story once it is finished and making sure that spelling and grammar are properly used. Even though this is basically one big rough draft, I can't STAND bad grammar. lol

AmberW: Oh, everything that Arthur has learned about magic is nothing compared to what is about to happen. :)

Heart of Diamond: Update complete!

1983Sarah: I always doubt my ability to craft realistic and enjoyable banter. But honestly, I've been happy with the way the banter has happened in this. Generally it comes when I don't expect it. Lol. It pops into my head and I write it. Sometimes I think I don't have as much control over my brain as I like to think.

Diamond Gryphon: I've always felt that Merlin understands completely the emotion and feeling of magic, but his inexperience prevents most technical knowledge. In this chapter you see him flail a little as his lack of true technical understanding gets the better of him. :)

haezofdaust: You know, I never thought about that, and I'm not sure Arthur has either. With all that has happened, he probably has locked that little question away in the back of his mind- file as 'things I really don't understand about Merlin.' Maybe one day he will ask, but I kind of doubt it. For instance, when Merlin passed out in the first episode of the first season, Arthur just kind of rolled his eyes. Maybe he just assumed that Merlin is a booze-hound and is hungover. I dunno. Lol And yes, I love Frio too. XD

flyaway213: It is a nice bum. XD And I don't think his bum hurts as much as his leg right now.

I hope your ready for some serious magic and bromance! Here we go!

* * *

Having just returned to his chambers from his rounds, Gaius wasn't expecting the door to swing open as soon as he had placed his medicine bag on the table and he jumped a little. He smiled and inclined his head toward his queen as she swept into the room and shut the door behind her.

"My lady," he said.

Gwen nodded back with a smile. "Gaius." She glanced around at the deserted chambers for a moment then sighed and looked back to the physician. "How's Merlin?"

Gaius motioned to the door to Merlin's room which lay open. Gwen moved to look in, spotting Frio nestled on what she could only assume was his chest, her head curled around to rest on her back. "He sleeps peacefully it seems." He pursed his lips and sympathy entered his eyes. "I don't imagine his condition will change before the king returns."

Guinevere nodded and looked to her feet, fidgeting with her hands. "I know. I just can't help asking."

Gaius nodded and began removing empty bottles and unused herbs from his bag. He was setting the small bottles aside to be cleaned when he noticed the queen still awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. "What's wrong, my lady?" he asked after a few tense moments.

Gwen's head snapped up and she smiled sheepishly at Gaius. "Oh. My apologies Gaius. I actually came to see Dayla."

Gaius motioned to Merlin's room again. "She's sleeping." Gwen walked over to the doorway and peered inside. Frio's head shot up, hearing her approach, and tilted to one side. A bed roll had been laid out to the left of Merlin's bed, but it was empty. A chair was pulled up next to where Merlin slept, and Dayla sat on its very edge, her small arms barely reaching up to where they were folded on the bed. Her head was laid on her arms and she seemed to be sleeping soundly. Frio stood on Merlin's chest, stretched each of her legs out, shook herself, and settled back down. Gwen smiled at the scene and returned to the main room.

"She was up with me last night helping to change Merlin's bed sheets. She may be a while," said Gaius.

Gwen smiled and nodded. "Alright. Do you mind if I sit and wait a bit?" she asked, eying the bench pulled up to the table.

"Of course." Gaius nodded and Guinevere sat, heaving a heavy sigh. After a moment, Gaius began to work at his potions table and said, "How did the council meeting go?"

Guinevere gave a wry chuckle. "Sort of the reason I want to be somewhere quiet right now." Gaius looked at her, his eyes requesting that she elaborate. "After what happened, getting the council to agree to prepare the city for a siege wasn't difficult at all. But with the actions of Morven and Edlyn, they want to pin all of the focus on the druids. They seem convinced that their actions represent the feelings of all tribes."

Gaius didn't look surprised. "Many of the council members are still in place from Uther's rule. Their attitude towards magic might not change for a long time, if at all."

"Having Leon there was a great help. They trust him more than they trust me," said Gwen with a sad smile.

"I imagine so. Leon is not only a captain, but he has fought in many many battles alongside Arthur. He has proven himself to them. You only need the opportunity to do the same," said Gaius, combining the liquids in two small glass jars.

"I don't know how, though. It's all I can do to keep them from declaring all-out war on the druid people," groaned Gwen, placing her face in her hands and her elbows on her knees. "I'm not sure I can do this, Gaius," she admitted.

Gaius was suddenly in front of her, sitting on a stood just a few feet away. He grabbed her hands and she sat up, looking him in the eye. "Guinevere, you are the servant-girl remarkable enough to win over the heart of a Prince surrounded with royalty and riches. If anyone can do it, you can."

Gwen smiled at him. "Thank you, Gaius."

Soft fluttering drew their attention back. Frio hopped down the steps and spread her wings and legs in a stretch. Behind her trailed Dayla, rubbing a fist into tired eyes. She caught sight of the fine silk of Guinevere's dress and trailed the embroidery up to her face, her large brown eyes widening. She dropped down to one knee in a bow. "Your Highness!" she cried.

Guinevere got her first true look at the small girl. She couldn't have been as tall as Gwen's hip. She had long brown hair which reached to her waist and was woven into a braid, but the hair around her face was mussed and wild. She wore a brown sleeveless tunic of rough cloth, showing off the druid symbol that swirled on her right shoulder. Her small legs were bare, but her feet were entirely encased in white bandages.

Guinevere smiled and held a hand out. "Oh, Dayla, there's no need for that." The small girl looked at the extended hand meekly, as though afraid to meet her eyes. Gwen merely looked at her with a gentle smile and Dayla slowly made her way to her feet. "I actually came to speak with you." She patted the bench next to her. "Come, sit."

Dayla hesitated, clearly intimidated by the finery of Guinevere's appearance. Gwen suddenly felt guilty having come here still dressed for a council meeting. She sighed and looked to Gaius. The physician leaned his head to see the girl. "Dayla, come," he said gently. Dayla perked up and at a pat on his legs, she hurried over to be lifted into the old man's lap. She was now facing the queen, but the presence of the physician visibly relaxed her.

Gwen reached out her hand, silently requesting Dayla's. After a moment, and a nod from Gaius, her small fingers rested on Gwen's palm. The queen ran her thumb across the little girl's knuckles. "You have nothing to fear from me, Dayla." A thought occurred to her and she reached up to pluck the thin tiara from her head. "Would you like to hold this?" she asked.

The druid girl's eyes lit up at the sight of the beautiful head-piece and looked up to Gwen, finally meeting her eyes. She stared at her as though she were reading a scroll and then after deeming whatever she discovered there satisfactory, she gave a shy smile and nodded. Gwen held out the tiara and Dayla took it, holding the item like it was made of fired clay that could shatter at any moment. She turned it around slowly, eying each of the gems with wonder. Guinevere smiled and gently took the tiara from her hands and lifted it to rest on the girl's head. Dayla smiled brightly again, pressing her arms into her legs in delight. Gwen struggled with the tiara for a moment, as the little druid's head was smaller than her own. But she finally found that by pressing the back point into the top of Dayla's braid, the 'v' shape at the front sat delicately in the center of the girl's forehead.

She hoped that her uncomfortable topic of conversation would be eased by Dayla's delight at the crown. She sighed and sat back. "We have men circling the city, keeping an eye out for anyone from Morgana's company. What do you know of what is to happen?"

Dayla nodded and pulled the blue gem from her pocket. "This will project a wall around the edges of the city."

Gwen stared at the sparkling rock. Strange that something that fit in the palm of a child's hand would possibly be their only means of holding the enemy at bay. "Does it need to be placed anywhere in specific?"

Dayla nodded. "The tallest tower in the citadel."

"So the eastern tower," offered Gaius.

"And once the wall is up, no one may enter?" asked Gwen.

Dayla shoved the gem back into her pocket. "The wall won't become solid until I supply it with my magic."

Again, their defense against the strength of Morgana lay with something so small. "Do you have to be in the tower to make it work? We would need to station a group of knights to protect the door."

Dayla shook her head. "No. I can use the spell from anywhere within the wall."

A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Will it hurt?" she asked quietly.

Dayla didn't seem bothered by the question. "Not at first."

Gwen felt a knot tighten in her throat at the shrug that accompanied her words. "At first?" she managed.

Dayla's eyes held no fear or uncertainty. "My mama said that as the gem draws more of my power, it will start to make me tired, and then it will hurt." She sat up straighter, her eyes filled with a memory of love. "She always used to say, 'strengthen your heart, Dayla, and your troubles will be eased.'" She placed a hand over her heart. "I think she meant it will hurt here." Again, there was no fear or concern in her voice or eyes. She was resolute and accepting, and it disturbed Gwen to her core.

The queen struggled to hold off the tears that stung her eyes. She forced a smile, but the girl seemed to easily see through it. She leaned forward in Gaius' lap. "What's wrong, your highness?" she asked.

Gwen looked up at her, the warmth of the girl's question allowing a proper smile to break through. She shook her head, and spotted Frio a few feet behind Gaius' chair, pecking at a discarded bottle. "Dayla, why don't you go play outside with Frio?"

Dayla's eyes lit up. "Really? Can I?" she asked, a broad grin on her face. Gwen nodded and the little girl hopped from Gaius' lap, pulled the tiara from her head to hand it back to its owner and hurried to the doorway. She waved at the aforementioned bird and Frio obediently followed her out.

As soon as the door to Gaius' chambers was shut, Gwen's posture deflated. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she gripped her arms across her stomach. When she looked at Gaius, he was surprised at the fire in her eyes. "Gaius!" she cried, her tone dripping with a misplaced accusation.

"Guinevere-!"

Gaius was cut off as the queen raised her voice a small bit. "She's a child! A _child_, Gaius!" The old man's face was impassive, but his eyes were filled with sympathy. "How can we expect this from her?" she demanded, obviously not expecting an answer. "Arthur told me how Merlin screamed when that gem was put on him." Her tone was forcefully even, her voice battling the tension in her throat. "Dayla should be out catching frogs and learning to sew and picking flowers, not preparing herself for that kind of pain."

Gaius leaned forward on his knees. "It is unfortunate, but children chosen for a purpose according to the Old Religion are often deprived of childhood. They have very heavy responsibilities and they often have the mind of an adult far before their body catches up. It is likely that Dayla's entire life has been consumed by training for this very moment."

Gwen fell silent, staring at the door where the girl had just left. She hugged herself tighter and the tears began once again. "Will the gem kill her?"

Gaius considered the question for a long moment. "It is not very likely. The magic that runs in Dayla is not like Merlin's. It does not sustain her. However," his voice softened, "if her magic and energy do run out, I fear she will fall into a sleep much like Merlin's. She will never wake again."

Gwen's face and eyes became suddenly resolute and her posture straightened. Her hands fell into her lap after scrubbing the tears from her face. "I will not let that happen." Gaius was taken aback by the declaration. Gwen's gaze did not falter. "Immediately after her family was murdered... she ran here on foot... wounded, and with a druid curse on her. She came to give the golden piece to Arthur and to endure the pain that will come with saving the city that has persecuted her." Her hands balled into fists. "That would break most _knights_." She looked out the window at the smoke stacks of the city. "When this is all over, she will want for nothing." Gaius' eyes widened at the insinuation. "I will do what I can to preserve the innocence that makes her so strong."

Gaius smiled. "That is quite a reward, my lady."

Gwen shook her head. "It is not a reward, Gaius." She looked back to the physician. "I am righting a wrong. Whatever purpose she will serve for this city, it does not change the fact that she was robbed of her childhood. I intend to give her some of that back; whatever I can."

~ooOoo~

By the time Gwaine woke up, the sun had nearly set. He was lying on a bedroll instead of the hard ground, and a fire crackled and popped to his right. He felt heavy and drowsy, and he could feel sweat dripping down his face and back. Icy hot pain shot through his leg when he tried to move it and so he resolved to keep it as still as he could. He craned his neck until his chin rested on his chest to look at the injured leg. His breeches had been torn a bit above the injury, creating a large hole with which to access the wound. His leg had been bound with several layers of crisp white bandages and the smell indicated the use of herbs as well.

Percival rested against a tree nearby, his head dipped and dozing. Arthur was across the camp, staring into a bowl of what Gwaine could only guess was food, but it could have been a dead mouse considering the look on his face. Excalibur was standing in the earth some feet in front of the king. Gwaine smirked and looked to Percival, scanning the bruises and cuts that littered the man's visible skin from his encounter with the golem.

"You look as bad as I feel," he chuckled.

The large man jumped at Gwaine's sudden speech and hurried to his side, smiling. Within seconds, Arthur appeared as well, looking over his face. "How do you feel, Gwaine?"

The roguish knight smiled. "Well, I have a hole in my leg; so, marvelous," he chuckled. He rolled his head to the side to look at the sword stuck in the ground. "Merlin, have you got anything for the pain?"

"_Yeah. I had Percival mix a tonic earlier. Turns out he's pretty good at it."_

The large man smiled and stood, wandering to where their belongings had been piled. Arthur laughed. "Far better than his cooking."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow at the king. "Did it not suit your delicate tastes, Princess?" he jibed.

"No no, he's right,"laughed Percival, walking back with a small bottle of yellowish liquid and a water skin. "Last night's dinner was apparently a fluke."

Arthur shuddered. "Let's just say tonight's stew, among other problems, was the consistency of mud." Percival blushed mildly, but he laughed along with Merlin at Arthur's lament. "I had to go catch us a rabbit."

Percival handed the small bottle off to Gwaine and the knight downed it in one swig. He instantly convulsed, almost managing to sit up in the process. He sputtered and coughed a little bit, his face screwed into one of disgust. "Oh! That is foul!"

"_They generally are,"_ laughed the sword. _"Herbs aren't really known for their taste."_

Gwaine smacked his lips a few times and drank greedily from the water skin that Percival handed him. He lay flat again and heaved a sigh. The elixir worked within a few minutes, his thing beginning to go numb. He glanced up at Percival again. "So how far have we gotten?" he asked.

The knight looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. "Gotten?"

"Since the fight. How much closer are we?"

Arthur looked to the sword and then to the prone man. "We haven't gone anywhere. You needed tending to."

Gwaine drew his eyebrows down. "What? Arthur, we don't have half a day to lose!" he exclaimed.

Arthur looked back to the sword with a look of justification on his face. "I know that, Gwaine. But you're in no fit state to travel."

Gwaine stared at him with his mouth slightly agape, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was being told. "Then you should have put me on a horse and sent me back to Camelot while you continued," he growled, looking to Percival for support.

"_Gwaine, as you pointed out earlier, you have a hole in your leg! We are a day and a half out of the city. You would have bled to death before you even spotted Camelot's towers."_

Percival nodded. "And even if you survived the blood loss, there are mercenaries everywhere looking for us."

Arthur looked to Excalibur and then to Gwaine. He was having difficulty choosing a side. He couldn't very well send Gwaine back to Camelot with such a high chance of capture or death, but they had very little time to lose before Morgana launched her attack. In the end he had given in to Merlin's reasoning and they had set up camp near the site of the battle. Gwaine was one of his best knights and a friend. He wouldn't abandon him.

The dark-haired knight struggled for words for a moment, trying to come up with some other solution. Finally his eyes grew resolute and he looked to Excalibur. "Alright then, Merlin. Fix me."

There was a long silence. _"Do what?"_

Gwaine took a long moment to work himself into a sitting position, Percival stepping in to help after a failed attempt. "Fix me," he repeated. "After eight years of protecting Arthur, you've got to know some healing magic."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the suggestion. He didn't know why the sentence annoyed him. Perhaps it was the insinuation that Arthur couldn't take care of himself. After thinking about it a moment, the annoyance turned to frustration. How many times had he walked away from a battle mistakenly thinking that his own skill had saved his life? Frustration now turned to guilt. How much credit for his many accomplishments truly belonged to Merlin?

"_Yes, I know some healing spells, but…" _Now it was Merlin's turn to struggle for words. "_You saw what happened to those trees. You want that to happen to your leg?"_

"What's the alternative?" asked Gwaine, waving one of his arms. "What were you planning on doing with me?"

Arthur ran a hand through his golden locks before sighing and leaning his head back in frustration. "We hadn't decided on one. We were hoping inspiration would strike us as we set up camp."

"Didn't quite work out that way," muttered Percival.

Arthur rubbed a knot in his neck and glanced up at Gwaine, studying his resolute face. After a long moment, the roguish knight placed his hand back behind him as support. "Camelot is about to be attacked by who knows how many mercenaries, bandits, and probably Saxons... not to mention Morgana herself," he said with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. "Either fix me or leave me, Arthur. We can't waste time here."

Arthur's thoughts were very much along the same lines, but he hesitated. The image of the crumbling trees flashed through his mind. One look into Gwaine's eyes told him the knight had deemed the risk a reasonable one. He ran a hand down his face and got to his feet, sighing as he took Excalibur into his hand. He could feel Merlin beginning to panic.

"_What are you doing?" _he demanded.

"Do it, Merlin," ordered the king.

He felt Merlin begin to rebel at the command, but the rebellion was followed quickly by something akin to obedience. Something about his sudden switch unnerved Arthur a little. Merlin was physically helpless in the state he was in. He had put himself entirely in the hands of his king, even going so far as to forsake his own decisions and opinions for those of Arthur. _"I don't know if this is a good idea.__"_

"Come on," urged Arthur. "Give it a go."Arthur suddenly found himself slightly offended at the emotions that Merlin was emitting. "Calling me a cabbage-head, are you?" he grumbled.

"_Do you have any idea how much harder healing magic is from normal magic?"_ demanded Merlin. Arthur shrugged at him. _"You're dealing with a living creature. If the flow of magic is off in the slightest, it will overwhelm the body and Gwaine could wind up without a leg at all."_

"We'll have to manage it, Merlin," said Arthur.

"_Glad to see you have so much faith in my abilities," _muttered Merlin, his tone full of doubt and a little sarcasm.

"I don't," said Arthur flatly. "But Gwaine is stubborn." Over on his bedroll, the knight grinned at the blade.

They all heard Merlin sigh. "Fine. _Not that I really know what I'm doing here, but we'll need to practice on something else before we start shoving magic into Gwaine's leg." _He seemed loathe to utter the next words."_I'm going to need your help, Arthur."_

Arthur shot a confused look down at the blade and then lifted it to look into Merlin's eyes behind the steel. "How am I supposed to help?"

"_If I am going to control my magic precisely enough for healing magic, I'm going to need you to help me." _The eyes in the sword shifted over to the side. "_Percival, I need you to go get five or six fist-sized stones from the river."_

Arthur watched the large knight hurry off to his task then narrowed his eyes at his servant again. "Are you asking for my help so you can blame me if you blow Gwaine's leg off?" he asked.

The injured knight shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion.

"_No. I'm going to try and use you like a staff."_

A strange look came over Arthur's face. "Like a what?" he demanded somewhat indignantly. "Since when do you have a staff?"

"_Since the first year I became your servant__." _Arthur sighed. Would there ever come a day when he discovered all that Merlin had managed to get away with over the years? "_According to what I've read and what I've done, the crystal in a magic staff acts as a medium; a tool which focuses their raw abilities. I imagine that using you to focus my magic will allow me to control it enough to use healing magic."_

"You imagine?" asked Arthur.

The king felt his servant roll his eyes. _"Oh, yes. I read about it in a book just the other day," _he drawled sarcastically. Arthur glared at the gem. _"As far as I know, never before has a warlock been trapped in a sword and called upon to use such precise magic. I'm having to make this up as I go along."_

Arthur stared at the sword for a long moment and then looked back at Gwaine. "You sure you want him to do this?" he asked.

Gwaine shifted uncomfortably again, but didn't protest.

Percival soon returned with several large rocks balanced in his muscled arms. "_Just put them in a pile somewhere, Percival," _said Merlin. The knight wandered to the middle of the camp and dropped the rocks before wandering back to his seat beside Gwaine to watch. Arthur was urged to sit in front of the rocks and so he did, placing Excalibur on the ground at his side.

"This is a bad idea," groaned Arthur.

"_There aren't too many options at this point," _said Merlin.

Arthur heaved a sigh. It wasn't quite the idea of being used as a channel to funnel magic that had him worried; it was the image of Gwaine's leg snapping like a twig. "Alright, what do I do?"

Merlin was silent for a long time. Arthur could feel his mind running as he stared at the rocks. Hopefully, the current shared nature of their feelings and minds would help Arthur do what he needed to. Merlin began muttering to himself.

"_A staff is a little different, obviously," _the said more to himself than anyone. The knights and their king decided to remain quiet while Merlin puzzled things out."_You're at least _slightly_ more intelligent than a piece of wood," _he chuckled, feeling Arthur's annoyance rise, "_which is what makes this possible. You just need… to control the magic as it goes through you."_

Arthur finally cut in to Merlin's thought train. "And how am I meant to do that?"

Merlin thought for another long moment, and now Arthur could feel him contemplating how to explain. Finally, he seemed to give up and sighed. "_Let's just start with this… I'm going to release some of my magic. Focus on your hand and you should feel it."_

Arthur pursed his lips, reluctantly nodded, and held his hand in front of his face. After a moment, a sensation ran down his arm and into his fingertips like a million small spiders shooting down his flesh. His eyes widened at the feeling. Prior to this, his only experience with Merlin's magic was enormous, overwhelming, and loud. This was gentle and quiet. But at the same time, he got the impression he was at the eye of a storm. Just beyond this trickle of magic was a powerful dam he was afraid would burst and swallow him. He turned his hand over in front of him and rubbed his fingertips together; looking at it as though someone else's hand had been stuck on the end of his arm. He hoped Merlin couldn't tell how much the feeling invigorated him; he didn't want any more self-satisfaction oozing from the blade. It was the same exhilaration he felt the first time he had encountered Merlin's magic. He felt energized and embraced by all that surrounded him.

A slight pressure appeared in his palm and, like the golden thread that lead them through the kingdom, he could almost see a small ball of energy coiling itself into existence. He stared at the empty space on his hand like it had just sprouted extra fingers. He didn't even care that the two knights present could see the dumbfounded look on his face.

"_Can you feel it, Arthur?" _asked Merlin, slightly concerned at Arthur's silence.

Arthur shook himself free of the daze and nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes… I can feel it." He swallowed and looked down at Merlin's eyes. "What do I do now?"

"_Uhh…" _sighed Merlin, glancing between Arthur, the invisible ball of magic, and the pile of stones. "_Imagine it getting smaller, I suppose."_

Arthur stared back at him, as though he expected the suggestion to be a joke. When Merlin remained silent, Arthur sighed. He looked down at his palm, trying his best to visualize the small mass he knew lay there. He tried first to simply picture the ball deflating, as though poking a hole in a water skin. He felt no change. He then tried to focus on the sensation on his palm, trying to imagine the point of contact shrinking in size. Again, nothing happened.

"_Try imagining, Arthur,"_ goaded Merlin, thoroughly breaking Arthur's concentration.

"I _was_ trying," he growled.

"_Oh."_

Arthur lay his chin in his tingling hand. "This is going to be like trying to teach me to say the dragonlord spell; it's not going to work."

"_You got a better idea of how to deal with Gwaine's wound?"_ Arthur was quiet and Merlin's mind raced again. After a long moment, Arthur felt a swell of magic, but it was different than when in battle. This swell was more like a gentle wave than a kick in the stomach. _"Put your hand on the ground beside you, Arthur."_ The king eyed the sword. _"Just do it,"_ sighed the servant.

Arthur obeyed, laying his hand flat against the grass beside him. His breath hitched in his throat.

The world around him exploded into existence, as though he had never before seen it. His fingers grew roots of energy, spiraling outward and touching every bit of life around them. Each blade of grass was vibrant and alive. Each tree was mighty and tall. Each animal was bursting with energy. There was a strong thudding in his chest and he yanked his hand to his chest, panting as though he had been sprinting.

"Sire, are you alright?" asked Percival, noting the king's suddenly hunched posture.

Arthur nodded, but he couldn't seem to find his voice. He opened his mouth, but his voice was trapped somewhere in his throat. What his eyes saw was so limited. How had he lived this long without seeing the world as it truly was? He looked to his tingling hand again.

"_Arthur?"_

Arthur looked to the sword lying limply in his left hand, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and shock. Again, his voice refused to leave his throat, but Merlin easily deciphered what he wanted to ask.

"_That was magic, Arthur, in its truest form. It can be overwhelming, I know."_

Arthur nodded again and looked to his hand. He actively tried to wrench the emotion from his face, but he failed miserably. He looked to the spot on the grass where his hand had just lay. It was no different than when they set up camp here, and yet Arthur now knew that there was so much more. If Merlin continued talking, he didn't hear him. Cautiously, Arthur put his hand against the ground again.

His mind burst once again with the sensation. It was as though he were everywhere at once. He could see far beyond where his eyes could reach. Their horses stood sleeping near the calm river. He spotted a doe and her fawn nibbling at a sapling whilst a handsome buck stood tall as a lookout. There were rabbits tearing through the woods toward their burrows and foxes chasing down small rodents. Birds flew from tree to tree singing and squawking. A group of bees danced among a small patch of flowers. The thudding began in his chest again and it took him a long moment to puzzle out what it was.

"_It is the heartbeat of the earth,"_ said Merlin, some amount of awe in his tone.

Arthur smiled weakly and it was all he could do to keep tears from falling down his cheeks. He was utterly overwhelmed by the extraordinary sensation. He quickly distracted himself by turning his attention to his left hand (he could hardly be seen crying in front of his knights!). It tingled like his right hand had done. There was a pleasant warmth that spread across his chest. It flowed from the earth into his hand, across his shoulders, and finally into the fingers that gripped tightly Excalibur's hilt. He dared not remove his hand from the ground. In that moment, he bathed in the beauty that was surrounding him; the beauty that he had always been blind to see. Was this how Merlin saw the world? And yet, like a drop of wine, fallen into a goblet of pure water, stained it slightly red, sadness and fear tinted the earth. Little beads of mourning skittered across everything. There was not a bit of the magic around him that remained untouched. The beads stung his eyes and wound a lump into his throat. The magic of the world seemed to be crying.

"All mourning the absence of its master..." he whispered quietly enough that even though the knights leaned closer to him, they didn't catch his words.

He felt the tingle in his body begin to spread. It crawled across his stomach and down his legs until it reached his toes. He could feel his eyes burning and he was barely aware of the surprise that brought Percival to his feet. When his body could take no more, he removed his hand and sat back, once again breathing heavily. He looked to Percival, a question in his eyes.

The large knight shifted awkwardly for a moment before reclaiming his seat. "Your eyes, sire... they glowed brighter than our fire."

Arthur looked down at the fire, and then glanced around the camp. The world was small and solid again. He took a long moment to gather himself together and then took a deep breath. He looked down at the sword and couldn't help but glare at the grin that Merlin sent him. There was no self-satisfaction in the servant, however. It was a smile of pure joy. Arthur had now seen the world the way that Merlin had always wanted him to; vibrant, beautiful, wondrous, _alive_. The joy was infectious and Arthur fought the smile that tried to force its way onto his lips. He had more important things to do than giggle like a little girl with his best mate.

"_Try again, Arthur," _said Merlin, ignoring the swell of companionship that Arthur tried to restrain.

Still struggling to find his voice, Arthur simply nodded and sat up again, holding out his hand and staring at the palm. He felt the energy gather there again, swirling and tumbling like a tiny whirlwind. He focused his mind as much as he could, but the energy did not change. He stared at the invisible ball, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't picture the magic that had just overwhelmed him in such a small form. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that such raw power and energy could be harnessed in such a way, despite the evidence to the contrary in his hand. After another fruitless moment, he heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his arm back into his lap.

"Well, that seemed like a waste of time," growled Arthur finally, having to clear his throat to jar his voice back into action.

"_Arthur,"_ began Merlin, awe and glee mixing in his tone. On the other side of the fire, the knights sat up straighter at the servant's voice. _"What did you just do?"_

Arthur brought his hand back up and examined it as though to find out if anything had changed. Finding nothing he said, "Nothing. Why?"

Merlin thought for a moment, and Arthur could feel the servant's realization come over him. _"You sighed,"_ Merlin pointed out.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Yeah... I suppose I did. What does that matter?"

"_When you breathed out, I was able to better control the flow of magic."_

Arthur's expression didn't change. "Wait... I have to sigh for you to control your magic?" he demanded, shuddering as he envisioned himself breathing out like a swooning girl.

"_I don't think so. Just breathe evenly and slowly."_

"What sense does that make?" asked Arthur with a smirk. "All I have to do is breathe a certain way?"

"_I have no idea, but if it works, I won't question it,"_ laughed Merlin.

"So... now what?" asked Gwaine from his bedroll.

"_Well, now we try a spell. That's why I had Percival bring the rocks."_

"My leg's a lot softer than those rocks, Merlin," called Gwaine, his voice tightened by anxiety.

"_I'm not using a healing spell on the rocks. I just need to get used to using Arthur as a medium."_

"I'm not a piece of wood, Merlin," grumbled Arthur, grabbing one of the rocks and setting it down in front of him.

"_Cabbage will work just fine as a medium, I'm sure."_

Arthur smacked the blade against one of the rocks and felt quite content at the yelp of pain Merlin gave. "What do I do?" he asked.

"_Place your hand on the rock and breathe steadily."_

Arthur did as he was told and laid his palm flush against the cool stone. Magic welled in his stomach and seemed to accompany the air that was sucked into his lungs. The spiders skittered across his flesh again and he could feel the magic jump and fidget beneath his skin, longing to be released. He closed his eyes and willed it back into the flow he could feel running to his fingertips. As the energy reached a steady trickle, he felt Merlin take hold of his voice.

"_Cléofan.(1)"_

The king knew what would happen just before it did. His hand shot to his chest as the rock beneath his palm burst with a loud popping sound, sending small shards of rock in all directions. A few pieces grazed his fingers and he shook his hand out.

"Ow! Merlin!"

"_Sorry! I'm still getting used to this!"_

Gwaine leaned over to see the remains of the rock. He eyed the small shards near his bedroll, took a deep steadying breath, and exchanged a concerned look with Percival.

Arthur examined his hand, poking at the small welts that appeared on the heel. "Great," he grumbled.

"_That's why I had Percival grab a few,"_ said Merlin.

Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed another rock. Three more stones exploded, wearing Gwaine's nerves thinner and thinner each time. The knights took to bracing themselves for the loud popping noise (followed by several choice swears by the king) they knew was coming each time Arthur uttered the foreign tongue. On the fifth stone that Arthur grabbed, however, the 'POP' was replaced with a 'CRACK'.

The king cautiously opened one eye and looked down at his hand. No new welts were forming. The stone was still cool against his skin. He slowly removed his hand, looking down at the stone, which now lay in two large pieces. A jagged fissure had carved itself all the way through the rock. Arthur gave a weak smile and he could feel Merlin burst with glee.

"_Finally! That's it!"_ he cried.

Arthur's confidence in Merlin's ability to _not_ do that to Gwaine's leg wasn't bolstered, though. "I assume that was meant to happen?"

"_Just so,"_ said Merlin.

"And you're _not_ going to do that to my leg?" asked Gwaine. Not even he noticed how tightly his hand had been wound into the fabric of his bed roll as he watched the poor stones being butchered one by one.

"_Different kind of spell,"_ assured Merlin.

Arthur moved the two pieces of stone off to the side and grabbed the last unbroken rock. "Hardly comforting since all we've seen you do is break things," he grumbled.

"_I'd like to see you do better,"_ laughed Merlin.

"Would like to see that, actually." Arthur chuckled at the thought. He could feel Merlin give an eye-roll. "The fact is, Merlin, that you've always been an idiot. I just know now that you're a _magical_ idiot. If it were possible, I'd take you up on that."

There was something comforting about Arthur's statement. Perhaps things were not quite as changed as he feared. Merlin found himself hoping more than anything else that once he was returned to his body he could continue his normal duties, quietly advising Arthur until the day came when all of magic was free. The comfort and hope was quickly dismissed (lest Arthur discover what he was thinking) and his usual cheek returned.

"_Keep telling yourself that. Just grab the rock, will you?"_

Arthur picked up the rock and held it in his hand for a moment before placing it back onto the ground and covering it with his palm. He inhaled slowly and could feel the magic swell in his chest. He could feel his eyes burn and Merlin grabbed his voice.

"_Cléofan."_

_CRACK!_

Arthur moved his hand and this rock, too, was now in two pieces. He smiled along with Merlin and sighed suddenly feeling drained and tired. "Alright. Are we ready for this?" the king asked, looking both to Merlin's eyes within the blade and back toward Gwaine, who still looked rather apprehensive about the whole matter. Arthur chuckled at the fear in the knights eyes. "What about all that 'fix me or leave me' chat, Gwaine?"

The injured knight laughed weakly. "Right. Well let's get on with it," he said with no small amount of anxiety in his tone. He could feel Percival come behind him and support his back. Feeling a little like a girl, Gwaine established a powerful hold on one of the bear's forearms, bracing himself for the bone shattering he was almost certain he was about to experience.

Arthur stood and walked toward Gwaine, his own fear getting stronger with each step he took toward the injured knight. Merlin seemed to immediately pick up on it.

"_Relax,"_ he ordered. _"Your breathing is what makes this possible. You won't do Gwaine much good if you're panting like this."_

"I am not panting," replied an indignant king. He knelt next to the injured leg and eyed the spot of blood that had slowly begun to seep through the white bandages. He glanced to Gwaine and then looked back at the limb. "What do I do?"

"_Unwrap his leg. The wound needs to be exposed."_

Gwaine glanced up to Percival who offered a weak smile. Arthur placed Excalibur once again on the ground and began to untie the knot at the top, moving his hands as gingerly as he could. Even moving thus, Gwaine still hissed and gritted his teeth. He lifted Gwaine's leg to bend the knee and slowly unwrapped the cloth until he exposed Gwaine's thigh and the several small orange flower petals (2) that had been pressed against the wound. He lifted each one carefully until the small hole hit the air and Gwaine hissed again. The injury looked mostly clean, though the skin around the puncture was an angry shade of red. Covering almost the width of Gwaine's thigh around the wound, his skin was covered with blue, purple, and black bruising. Blood pooled and began to drip down into his trousers.

"Alright, now what?"

"_Sorry, Gwaine. This is going to hurt," _muttered Merlin.

Gwaine nodded and his fingers dug a little deeper into Percival's arm. "Just do it," he ordered.

Merlin hesitated but Arthur could feel his determination solidify. _"Alright, Arthur. Lay one hand over the wound and grab Excalibur's hilt with the other."_ Arthur obeyed and Gwaine growled at the sting that the warmth of the king's hand brought. _"Breathe steadily, Arthur. You too, Gwaine."_

Arthur brought his mind into focus. Magic began its journey down his arm and into his fingertips, waiting to be loosed into the small hole beneath his palm. His breath slowed and his eyes closed. As he exhaled, Merlin grabbed his voice.

"_Wel cene hole.(3)"_

Gwaine yelped, but Arthur barely heard it. As it had when he touched the ground, his vision darted downwards, infiltrating the knight's thigh. He passed muscle and tissue until he reached the powerful bone. Like a goblet being filled with water, the magic filled the injury. After several minutes, he could feel the magic being slowly pushed back into the air and into his hand. The muscle and tissue spun themselves whole until he could feel the gap in Gwaine's flesh seal itself closed.

Arthur's eyes opened and he lifted his hand away. Where once had sat a red pool of blood, there was now nothing but a small white circle surrounded by the deep purple of the bruise. Gwaine's death grip on Percival's arm released and he sat up fully, looking down at his still-bloodied leg with a broad smile.

"Could have used something like that a while ago, mate," laughed Gwaine. "Nicely done."

Arthur wobbled slightly as he attempted to stand. "Wooh..." Without saying anything to his knights or the sword, he used Excalibur as a crutch to gain his feet and then left it embedded in the ground to head back to his bed roll and trip over a root onto it. "We didn't blow Gwaine's leg off," he slurred into the cushion beneath him. "Well done."

Merlin laughed. _"After the amount of magic he just helped me with, I'm surprised he was awake this long."_

"That was certainly impressive," said Percival, standing.

"_I'm just glad it worked. I've never used that spell before."_

Gwaine's wide eyes fixed on the gem. "And you thought it would be a good idea to test it out on me, did you?" There wasn't much anger in his voice, though it was filled with the realization of the true risk of what he had just allowed Merlin to do.

"_Relax. That spell is actually specifically for puncture wounds. I've seen it used before on Arthur."_

Percival retrieved his bed roll where it had been laid on the other side of the fire and brought it round to spread it between the king and Gwaine. "It's amazing how long sorcery has been at the heart of Camelot." There was a certain amount of wonder in his voice that Merlin hadn't expected to hear from any of the knights.

"_You haven't seemed too upset by all of this, Percival. Do you not share Camelot's fear and hatred of magic?"_

Percival shrugged. "It's not that I don't fear it. It is difficult to grow up in this day and age without that kind of prejudice." He settled onto his belly, propping his upper torso on his elbows. "But since my family was killed, I've understood one purpose for myself, and that is to fight. It is one of the only things I'm good for." He chuckled and Gwaine mimed raising a goblet to him with a smile. "When Cenred attacked my village, I saw farmers and tailors pick up brooms and pitchforks to fight off men with swords and crossbows. They used anything they could get their hands on to defend the ones they loved." He looked down at his hands. "I suppose... my fear and prejudice was overcome by my understanding that people use whatever they have at their disposal to fight for what they deem as precious."

Percival rarely spoke of his family. In fact, the large man was known for his silence. He looked to Gwaine, and then to the gem. His cheeks flared a soft red that was barely seen in the light of the fire under their scrutiny. "What about you, Gwaine?" he suddenly asked, desperate to redirect the attention of his companions.

Gwaine seemed surprised at the question and looked between the blade and the other knight before shrugging. "I've seen Merlin walk into the Perilous Lands to face wyverns and bandits without armor or weapon simply to save his master." He laughed. "If Merlin could even be _considered_ to be evil, then I'm a tavern wench."

His emotions his own while Arthur slept, Merlin allowed happiness to bathe his magic. Unnoticed by the two knights, plants sprouted new leaves, additional rings appeared in several trees' trunks, and flowers around them burst into bloom.

* * *

1: "Split."

2: Not sure if it matters, lol but the herb that I decided he used was Calendula; an orange flower used to speed healing.

3: "Do good to the perforation." From the episode _The Crystal Cave_

Hope you enjoyed! I promise more fights next chapter!


	16. Their Attack

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Omg... So sorry for the long space in updating. I had originally planned to have this up on Christmas day, but as it turned out, I did family things all day, so I suppose that's an excuse. Though for the other days I don't have one, aside from fretting over how to write the next few chapters.

But! I finally managed to get this one written and ready!

**Review Responses**

Linnea.E: Merry Christmas!

blackcallalily: Done! :)

Emily: Thank you for reading it! ^^

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: Yep! Nothing helps two people understand each other better than getting shoved into each other's heads, eh?

IndiaMoore: More action granted! And Merry Christmas

1983Sarah: Yay! I'm glad my banter is good. :)

CaptainOzone: I've grown to love writing Gwen. She is such a strong character in the show, but we don't get enough chances to see her really shine. The thing about Dayla was actually one of those things that just came out of nowhere. Gwen surprised me a little, but after I thought about it, it made sense. XD I have been looking forward to writing this level of bromance, so I'm happy it is coming across like that. And I think you were the first writer that I read to point out the whole relation between Merlin's magic and nature and it really made sense to me. Merlin is sort of magic incarnate, and so I think his connection to all living things would be pretty profound and extensive. Plus it was cool to write. XD

M. of the Mountains: Forcing Arthur's brain to understand is fun!

elflife: Well a thank you to you too!

AmberW: Yeah. I wanted to draw more attention to that. It is supposed in the show that Merlin is the first one to ever be _born_ with magic and so to me, that says that his magic is more natural than anyone else's. If Merlin is magic incarnate, wouldn't he have a connection to the rest of nature? I think I originally got the idea from CaptainOzone. Lol.

Here we go!

* * *

The air was cold and stale, but absolutely humming in anticipation. It startled Dayla awake, her sudden movement rattling Frio, who was nestled on the pillow next to her head. The bird spread her wings, her beak wide open for a moment before she realized nothing had happened and looked into Dayla's apprehensive eyes. The bird shook herself and nuzzled the girl. The druid wrapped her small arms around the bird and held her close for a moment before shrugging her blanket off and glancing to her left at where Merlin lay sleeping. She stood and padded over to his bedside, flinching a little at the icy floor on her bare feet. She placed a hand over the blackish burn that sat just below his collarbone where the gem had been attached to his flesh.

"It has started, Emrys," she muttered to his sleeping form, staring at his closed eyes as though she could will them to open. "Please hurry."

The door opened and Gaius entered, holding a small wooden bowl in his hand and smiling down at the little girl. "Ah, Dayla. I brought you some breakfast." His smile wilted as he caught the ominous glint in Dayla's eyes. "Is everything alright?"

Dayla walked over and took the bowl of porridge from him. "The magic of the world is stirring," she said quietly, looking up at him. "It is trying to tell Emrys that Morgana is near. Leon should prepare himself."

Any response Gaius could have mustered was cut off by the loud clanging of the warning bell. Frio screeched in response from her place on Merlin's chest. The two glanced out the open window in unison. They could feel the city- full to its brim with those from the nearby towns and villages- clench with anxiety. They huddled close together behind Camelot's mighty walls, having burned their remaining crops and fled; praying to their gods that their homes were still there when they returned- if they returned at all. The streets leading to the massive gates were filled with a sea of red and silver like blocked spouts ready to spew a flood of steel and sinew. Invisible to all but the small girl who now fled from the physician's chambers, there stood a wall of magic reaching more than twenty feet high.

The courtyard was a hive of frantic activity. Men, women, and children had allotted space for themselves with large blankets. Their necessities were piled high around them as they hugged each other in fear. Knights ran this way and that, creating a chaotic dance of red fabric. The air was filled with a cacophony of sound; cries of fear, whispered prayers, nervous horses, squeaky wagon wheels, clanging weapons, shuffling armor, and anxious conversation.

They were met in the courtyard by Leon and Elyan, both in full armor and bodies tensed for battle.

"What's happening, Leon?" asked Gaius, though he figured he knew the answer.

"A patrol didn't return this morning, and an archer spotted a small group of mercenaries approaching the western wall," answered the blond knight.

"It's probably a scouting party, and we don't have any proof it is Morgana," said Elyan, "but it would be best to be ready."

"It is she," said Dayla, drawing the knights' attention downwards. "The fox is near."

Leon and Elyan exchanged a look. Leon shook off his confusion and flipped the right side of his cape away from his shoulder to retrieve something attached to his belt. He pulled forth a perfectly curled ram's horn. It had been stained a deep charcoal color, and in between each ridge was a small chain of gold, connecting to a golden brace in the center. Green gems that sparkled unnaturally in the light were set all the way round the brace and it was hung from a polished silver chain.

"The horn of _Héafodwóð_. Finally found it in all that mess down there," he laughed.

Dayla took it and smiled at him. "Thank you. Hopefully we will not need his help."

Elyan nodded. "Even telling the people that it is an illusion won't quite dispel the panic. The warning bell will be rung four times in quick succession should we require you to use it."

Dayla nodded and looked to Gaius. The old man put a hand on her shoulder and Leon pointed back toward the palace. "Go to the council chambers. If anything happens, Elyan and myself will be there to protect you."

"What about Emrys?" asked Dayla.

It took a long moment of thinking for Leon and Elyan to remember who exactly she was talking about. Leon gritted his teeth and thought. The small girl and the old man could hardly be expected to carry the lanky man that far into the palace, and the looks in their eyes told him there was no chance of them leaving Merlin to his slumber. Even he wasn't upset with the warlock enough to want him left alone during a siege. He stood straight and his eyes wandered the courtyard, Elyan doing the same. The dark-skinned knight shot his hand out suddenly, jogging over to a younger knight that looked to be on his way toward the battlements.

"Sir Bedivere!" he called. The man turned at his name. He was a tall man with almond-colored skin and a handsome face. Leon jogged over to him and grabbed his shoulder, urging the man toward Gaius and Dayla.

"Go with Gaius and fetch one of his patients. Bring the patient and the girl to the council chambers and barricade the doors as well as you are able."

"The council chambers, Sir?" Bedivere asked, looking between the two knights and then down to the physician and the girl.

Leon could see disappointment in the young knight's eyes. He wanted to be out with his brothers-in-arms, defending his home and his king.

Leon gripped his shoulder. "This is a duty of utmost importance. You _must _ensure their safety."

Bedivere's disappointment vanished almost instantly when he saw the severity in Leon's eyes. He was not being taken off of the front lines as punishment; it was for an important duty. He bowed his head a little at the two senior knights. "You have my word, I will protect them with my life."

Leon and Elyan took turns clasping the young knight's arm and Bedivere hurried off with Gaius and Dayla. Leon looked to Elyan and the two then looked out over the packed courtyard. Battle was not unfamiliar. Battle was all Leon had known for more than twelve years; he had been in battles of magic and of swords. But this… this was far different from any battle he had ever fought. The simple anticipation was oppressive, and the fact that the city was absolutely overflowing with citizens didn't help the matter. Still, they were citizens of Camelot. They were resolute and prepared for such emergencies and although there was no shortage of fear, there was also the faith they all held for their king and his knights.

Leon hoped that news of the king's absence did not reach the general populace. In any other kingdom, this would create panic and riots. In Camelot, the citizens were more likely to rise to defend their home themselves; tailors and jewelers grabbing simple crafting tools to fend off the attackers. They would celebrate the king's 'escape' knowing that whatever happened to them, their sovereign remained safe.

Such a happening would devastate any knight. They were sworn to protect the citizens, not the other way around. Leon knew that any knight of Camelot would rather die than see their people rising to the fight and being inevitably cut down.

Elyan glanced around at the people that filled the open courtyard. How was it possible for him to so love a group of people he did not know? Every time he felt the weight of his chain mail come down on his shoulders, the love for this kingdom, its ruler, and its people swelled in his breast until he felt he would burst. His love for Arthur had only been the start of his loyalty. Over the years, he watched the kingdom flourish; came to love his brothers-in-arms, and fell completely for the hardy people that lived within its borders. He was no stranger to war or to conflict. He knew there was no way for all of the Knights to come back from this fight. But if he had his way, not a single citizen would perish in this.

His anger toward their unseen attackers mounting, he glanced to Leon, seeing many of the same thoughts running through the older knight's mind. With no words between them, they ran toward the front gate of the city.

Elsewhere, Gaius, Dayla, and Sir Bedivere threw open the physician chamber doors and the old man hurried the knight into the back room. "He's asleep on the bed there," he said.

Gaius began to pull sheets and supplies from one of the many cupboards around the room. They heard a loud screech and Dayla saw Sir Bedivere freeze with his hands raised at his sides. She hurried into the room to see Frio shifting her weight from foot to foot upon Merlin's chest, her wings wide, her beak open, and her feathers ruffled at Bedivere's attempt to retrieve the sleeping servant.

"Frio, he is here to help!" cried Dayla, dashing in to grab her green cloak off of her bedroll. She threw it over one thin arm and then offered the other to Frio. Bedivere found he didn't particularly care for the idea of the bird's sharp talons wrapping around the little girl's arm, but he wasn't going to get near the boy with the creature there. He watched as Dayla soothed the great bird with a few strokes to her back and a gentle embrace. When Dayla hurried back out the room, Frio scurried after her, but not before shooting what Bedivere thought was a nasty look at him.

He wasted no time and easily lifted Merlin into his arms, adjusting him and then ducking out of the room. "What has happened to Merlin?" he asked, looking at the man's sleeping face. He couldn't deny his concern. Merlin was a slight, goofy, and clumsy person but his years and experience as Arthur's servant had garnered a great amount of respect among all of the knights. Bedivere would freely admit that he looked up to him.

"Nevermind that, just get these two to the council chambers at once!" cried Gaius, setting down a bundle of clean bandages and moving to pull a few stacked cots out of a corner.

"But you must come with us, Gaius!" cried the druid, tying her cloak in place around her neck.

Gaius placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't, Dayla. I am the physician. I must be prepared to tend to the injured."

Dayla looked torn. She looked up at the unfamiliar knight, then back at the physician and nodded. "Be careful, Gaius," she said quickly. She glanced to Frio, waved at her, and the two followed the river of red fabric that flowed behind Bedivere out the door.

As they walked, Dayla did her best to hide behind the tall knight without stepping on the large cloak. She heard many exclamations from servants and nobles alike as they spotted the familiar limp form in Bedivere's arms. She was grateful that few paid attention to her. Even so, she pulled her cloak around her, effectively hiding the symbol on her shoulder. She could feel a few eyes linger on the green fabric and large bird that tailed the knight, but no one spoke to her.

To Bedivere's surprise, there were six knights standing before the council chamber doors. Bedivere approached and hefted Merlin higher into his arms. "I am to barricade these two within the chambers under Sir Leon's orders." The men nodded and stood aside, one of them swinging the door open for him. Dayla and Frio rushed past his legs as he stopped in the doorway and looked back to the guards. "Without Merlin's help, Gaius will need as much assistance as he can get. Rally some servants to go and help with fetching and carrying."

One of the smaller guards saluted the knight and scurried off to his task. Bedivere entered the room and the guards shut the door.

"My lady!" he cried, bowing as best he could with Merlin in his arms. Gwen stood from where she had been greeting Frio. Dayla was running from where the queen was standing and toward one of the large windows. "I thought you were meant to be in the royal chambers!"

The queen was dressed more commonly than Bedivere had ever seen her. She wore a beige tunic with a thick leather vest hugging tight around her torso. Her legs were wrapped in dark leggings and she wore thick leather boots. "I wish not to hide while my kingdom is attacked," she said, hurrying to the large table where the council met. "Lay Merlin here, Sir Bedivere."

The knight responded quickly, gently lowering the sleeping man onto the dark wooden table. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.

Gwen shook her head. "That is not a story for here." She brushed her hand over Merlin's forehead and sighed, looking up at Bedivere again. "I assume you were sent by Leon."

Before Bedivere could answer, their attention was turned to the window where Dayla stood. They now noticed that the girl had been chanting and now threw her hands into the air toward the glass. After a moment, she lowered them and looked down at Frio. The bird hopped forward and nuzzled her leg for a pet, which Dayla happily obliged.

Bedivere looked back at Gwen. "Yes, my lady. I am to protect you and the girl."

The queen placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "And Merlin as well." Bedivere looked suddenly embarrassed, as though he were caught forgetting something important. "All will be lost if he were to die."

The knight wasn't entirely sure how to respond to such a statement, but it was not his place to question the queen. "Of course, my lady!"

Just as Dayla looked ready to join the conversation, the very stone beneath their feet shook. A plume of black smoke accompanied a deafening explosion and Dayla ran to the queen's side, clinging to her leg. Gwen felt sadness clutch at her heart as she felt the girl's small hands trembling through the fabric of her breeches. She knelt and enveloped the druid in a hug. Dayla seemed surprised at the action for a moment before she wrapped her arms around Guinevere's neck and held on like she would fall if she let go. Gwen looked up to the window at the smoke rising from the lower town.

"It's starting."

~ooOoo~

The ride on the second day seemed to regress into the feel of the one on the first; with an odd amount of tension in the air. Gwaine seemed in good spirits, regularly checking the healed over wound in his leg as though he wasn't entirely convinced the hole had closed. For a reason Arthur couldn't fathom, the knight would occasionally poke at the large bruise that still sat across the width of his thigh. Percival was stoic and quiet as always, occasionally swatting like a fussy mother at Gwaine's hand as the roguish knight messed with his leg. The ride was outwardly silent, but Arthur's head was spinning and throbbing. A dull ache had seated itself behind his nose and occasionally dragged his attention out of his head and into the outside world.

Following the invisible golden thread had become almost second nature by this point, and so almost all of Arthur's attention was consumed by emotions that were pouring from the sword. He glanced down at the gem a few times, as though expecting Merlin to finally speak, but nothing came out. There was just the gloomy silence that hung over them like a thick blanket. The sadness didn't seem to suit the situation. It was clear to both Arthur and his servant that they were close to their destination, and they had successfully healed Gwaine's leg. So why was the king being mentally suffocated by sadness and regret?

It was past midday when they finally decided to give the horses a quick rest. It didn't much feel like a rest to anyone other than the animals, though. The knights and the king were constantly on guard, scanning the surrounding trees and bushes for a sign of another ambush. They remained on their feet as they munched on bread and cheese and sipped from their water skins. They were getting ready to set off on what Arthur figured was the last leg of their journey when he groaned and smacked the hilt of Excalibur.

"Alright Merlin," he grumbled, mounting his horse and fixing the gem with a glare, despite the fact that he knew the sheathed sword would prevent Merlin from seeing it. "What is wrong with you? Your mood has been giving me a headache all day."

_"That headache is not me. You used powerful magic last night. Your body just wasn't ready for it."_

The fact that Merlin decided to comment on the headache and not on the mood caused a wave of annoyance that Arthur hoped made it into the sword. "That doesn't answer my question," the king growled. "You've been quiet all day."

It wasn't until Arthur and his knights had spurred their horses into a canter that Merlin finally answered.

"_Being given this amount of time just to think isn't all that healthy."_

Arthur groaned. That hadn't really answered anything. He glanced back to Gwaine and Percival, whose faces effectively told him they had no understanding to offer either. He looked forward again, checking the golden thread once, and then turned his concentration inward. Under normal circumstances, Arthur figured, Merlin had every right to avoid explaining his feelings. They were both men and thus it was hardly appropriate to delve too much into putting words to what they were feeling. But at the moment, his own emotions were being invaded and he found it difficult not to retreat into the part of his mind that was colored with Merlin's and search for the answer that the servant seemed reluctant to give.

Among the pride and happiness that surrounded Merlin's thoughts of him, Arthur found clouds of sadness that seemed to stem from the dark-haired knight that rode behind him. As the clouds began to form around other thoughts and people Arthur couldn't quite make out, they turned from sadness into regret; one looming high above the others. The image was hazy and Arthur struggled to make it out, but as his subconscious worked, a realization struck him.

"You're thinking of the ones you couldn't save," mused Arthur. Gwaine and Percival gave up on eavesdropping as the horses' hooves drowned out anything Arthur was saying.

"_The ones I _didn't_ save," _corrected Merlin after a long moment of silence. There was a mild bitterness in his tone that the king could tell was directed inward. _"There are those I _could _have saved. But I didn't... out of fear."_

Shame trickled out of the sword and into Arthur's mind and the king couldn't help but sigh. "You expect too much," Arthur said after a pause. "It's impossible to save everyone." He could instantly feel Merlin rejecting the idea.

"_I had the power to do something, but I didn't." _The hazy image that Arthur's mind was still attempting to decipher loomed again as Merlin's thoughts turned to it. _"Fear, inexperience, uncertainty; I can have all the excuses I could ever want. But in the end it doesn't matter. My inaction caused suffering."_

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but the guilt that weighed in his mind forced his mouth closed again. What could he say? Guilt pounded in his heart whenever his men were killed in a faraway land. He wasn't sure how to respond- or even if he had the right to- to the emotions swimming around in their heads. He couldn't honestly say he wouldn't be thinking the same way.

Merlin fell quiet and Arthur turned his mind back to that overwhelming thought; the incoherent face that his subconscious had been attempting to decipher. At last an image began to appear; a beautiful girl with deep brown eyes and a warm smile. She was tired and her clothes torn, but it diminished none of her loveliness. Slowly, a name emerged.

"Who's Freya?" the king asked.

Arthur found he suddenly couldn't breathe. A force of raw emotion hit him in the gut and after gaping like a fish for a few beats, he sucked in air and felt tears spring to his eyes. A powerful love was weighed down with regret, pain, and longing. He felt like he was drowning and he hunched over his saddle, clutching a hand to his breast as though he feared his heart would burst from it.

"Sire!" called Percival, speeding his mare to trot along side his sovereign. "Are you alright?"

Arthur kept his eyes focused on his stallion's mane and nodded weakly. "I'm fine," he insisted. Percival stared at him for a moment, but fell back in line with Gwaine when the king waved him off.

It took several minutes for Arthur to recover from the blow. He didn't need the answer to his question, nor did he need to ask anything about the image. The impact of those emotions had told him all he needed to know. He cleared his throat roughly, and in an attempt to steer both his and Merlin's mind away from the girl, he allowed a question that had been dancing around the outskirts of his consciousness for hours to form into words.

"Merlin... can I ask you something?" he mumbled. He doubted that if not for their connection, the warlock would not have heard him. "Could you have saved my father?"

Guilt socked him in the stomach again, far stronger than he had expected and he felt Percival and Gwaine dash to ride beside him again as he hunched in his saddle. "Arthur, what's happening?" Gwaine demanded, concern thick in his tone.

Arthur allowed their gait to slow to a trot. He waved off their concern and sighed as they fell behind him just a little. He knew Merlin couldn't quite help the feelings that wound up slamming into Arthur's mind, but that didn't mean he had to hold back the annoyance that he hoped doused the gem. A small wisp of thought meandered into his head in response to the outburst of feeling as though Merlin were saying 'then don't ask provocative questions'.

In spite of Merlin's silent response Arthur could tell he would answer vocally as well, but it took him some time to form the words. Finally, Merlin's voice echoed around him; subdued and weighted with guilt and regret.

"_I tried Arthur. I swear to you I tried everything I could."_ He felt his servant sigh heavily. _"But Morgana got to him first."_

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but something struck him before he could speak. The memory of an old withered sorcerer with high cheekbones and strangely familiar eyes.

"You were the old man," he stated, fighting to keep the awe out of his tone. Behind him, Percival and Gwaine exchanged a strange look.

"The old man that beat us up?!" shouted Gwaine suddenly, making Arthur jump and effectively bursting the heavy bubble of solemnness that had descended upon the traveling party.

There was a bizarre silence that followed as Arthur looked behind him at the two knights; his perplexed expression morphing slowly into one that was clearly attempting to hold in laughter. The two men exchanged another furtive glance. It had been a silent agreement among the knights that having an old man (sorcerer or no) get the better of five of Camelot's finest knights was something that would never be spoken of again. Thus, Percival then aimed a powerful glare at Gwaine, the likes of which Arthur had never before seen on the Bear's face.

Arthur's throat had tightened so much in an attempt to not laugh, that his voice was broken and mildly high-pitched when he said, "He what?"

Seeing now that the king had an interest in the tale that should never have been mentioned, Percival punched Gwaine in the arm, nearly unhorsing the smaller man. Arthur turned back to the front and laughed at the gem.

"You beat them up?"

There was a strange mix of satisfaction and humor in Merlin's tone when he spoke. _"I wouldn't say I beat them up."_

"Only tossed us around like pies, is all!" argued Gwaine.

"_That'll teach you to pick on an old man!"_ laughed Merlin. Arthur couldn't stop the smile that spread across his mouth. Finally, the gloom and guilt had lifted away from the trapped warlock. It was refreshing to hear him laugh.

"_You're_ not an old man!" cried Percival, finally joining the argument.

"_That's not just a disguise. That spell actually ages me, so yes, I _was_ an old man. And you were picking on me," _defended Merlin.

"But was it necessary to use us as a stepping stool?" demanded Gwaine. Arthur burst into chuckles.

"_You'd be surprised how difficult mounting a horse is when-"_ Merlin cut himself off and Arthur felt his humor instantly vanish. Arthur slowed his horse, the knights behind him followed suit. The king looked to the ground before him and could see the golden thread stretching into a particularly thick area of brush. Though there was no visible indication, he could feel that the end of the trail ended not too far in front of them. He motioned for the horses to stop and the three dismounted.

The sun had vanished some time ago, though the sky was just now beginning to turn a burnt orange with sunset. They stood in the massive shadow of a mountain that towered above the trees. In the middle of the heavy brush, it would be easy to look up and mistake the gray stone for a storm-brewing sky. They were approaching a small face of the mountain, as though god had taken a knife and sliced off a section, leaving a somewhat flat area into which a cave had been carved.

The knights and their king drew their swords and Merlin let his magic bathe the area as they neared the small clearing that had been created in front of the cave's great mouth. He was disturbed by the lack of life. Trees, bushes, and ferns were plentiful, but the utter lack of wildlife set off alarms in his head. There were burrows in the ground, but no rodents. There were nests in the trees, but the skies were still. He could feel Arthur respond to his discomfort and his grip on Excalibur's hilt tightened.

Dark magic was emanating from the cave like a suffocating fog coming down from the mountains on a cold morning. It was like all of nature leaned away from it and even the trees and grass would uproot themselves and flee if they could. Merlin knew that, had he any lungs at the moment, he would be finding it physically difficult to breathe. Luckily, his companions didn't have his sensitivity to magic.

Even so, Arthur could feel the dark oppression. It was just outside the realm of his senses, but he could feel the discomfort flowing from the sword and the golden thread faded in and out of his mind's eye as though it struggled to maintain itself in this atmosphere. More than anything, the silence that surrounded them was disturbing. What Merlin had sensed with his magic, Arthur now heard with his ears- or rather _did not_ hear.

As the skies darkened above them, the glow from a campfire ahead of them became more pronounced and they eventually spotted where the trees ended. Without a word between them, they crouched behind a thick set of bushes that lead into the clearing on a slight decline and peered down into the makeshift camp.

The clearing was small and man-made, as it was dotted with small stumps and the remains of bushes were piled along the treeline. Small white tents had been pitched here and there surrounding two large bonfires where most of the men were huddled against the autumn air. Three or four meandered along the edge of the clearing with swords or maces in their hands- no doubt looking for them- and a few others stood in small groups chatting among themselves. There were druids in long green robes, bandits and mercenaries wearing all manner of hide, and even Saxons with red serpents emblazoned across their chests. Arthur estimated there were no fewer than fifteen in the clearing alone. The cave opening yawned behind the men and seemed to be carved from the great mountain itself. Above sat a flat plain where Arthur could just barely see a few more men meandering, crossbows clutched in muscled arms. Torches flared within the depths of the opening, but it did little to dispel the feeling that it was a portal into nowhere. The idea of walking into it gave Merlin the distinct impression of wading into a river of liquid filth. He silently apologized to Arthur as he felt the king scrunch his nose at the imagery that accidentally wandered from the sword and into his head.

Arthur sized the lot up. After defeating two earthen golems his confidence in their abilities was fairly decent, but it plummeted when Merlin spoke up suddenly.

"_There are more in the forests,"_ he said. Suddenly, panic struck Arthur squarely in the gut and Merlin shouted, _"They knew we were coming!"_

The three knights leapt to their feet as Merlin's cry seemed to spawn the bandits from the bushes around them. Two of them threw themselves at the Bear and Percival was quickly on the ground. Another appeared behind Gwaine, but the roguish knight twirled at the sound of movement behind him and slashed open the man's belly.

Information was pouring into Arthur's head, and he tried to process it as he moved. He spun on the ball of one of his feet, slashing his sword horizontally around him and toward the men he knew were behind him. They were all well out of the reach of his blade, but an explosion of white light from the sword sent them all flying backward. He looked back to the knights, where Gwaine had stabbed one of the men on Percival's torso and the larger knight was throwing the other attacker into a tree like a child's toy. He reclaimed his sword and accepted Gwaine's offered hand. Seeing no more surging from the brush, they all leapt into the clearing. All of the men they had been watching earlier had their eyes upon them, and most of them were charging up the small incline at them. They could only guess that the ones that hung back were either druids or sorcerers.

Before the first man made contact with the knights, a blast of fire shot at them from one of the druids. Arthur dashed between Gwaine and Percival to the front and sliced neatly through the flames, which extinguished themselves instantly. The two knights rushed past their king again to engage the men that ran at them. Arthur sensed- more than heard or saw- the firing of crossbow bolts above the cave and aimed Excalibur's point at the men that stood there. He felt his eyes burn and a wave of magic sent the bolts right back into their owners, prompting a chorus of wails immediately after.

He ran to his knights, who stood back to back against a circle of enemies that was forming around them. Arthur placed his back against their shoulders as a Saxon closed the ring behind him. At his left, Gwaine smiled.

The dark-haired knight through his head back and laughed. "My kind of odds!" he shouted. Percival smirked over his shoulder as the group descended on them.

The clearing descended into chaos. The sounds of steel on steel was only drowned out by the shouts of the sorcerers crying out their spells and the screams of the dying. Arthur did his best to keep himself between the large cave opening and his knights, allowing him to keep an eye on the few magic-users that he could tell were still casting. But as he carved open a man's chest with a swipe downward, his eye caught something new; a man standing just outside the cave. Unlike the others, he was clad in robes of fine make. His head was tipped forward in what looked to be concentration, his long black hair spilling onto his shoulders and front.

As the battle raged on, Arthur's mind began to tire and processing all of the information that was being poured into his head like it was a goblet caused his focus on the men in front of him to falter. The magic that bathed the area showed him every snapped branch, every chanting druid, and every battle-ready bandit within the area. He could hardly tell the step of a bandit twenty yards away from that of the two knights at his back.

His world came into sharp focus, however, when a pain in his side drew a cry from his throat and he doubled over. He held a hand against his side where a blade had slammed into him and quite possibly snapped a rib. The man raised his sword for another blow and Arthur could feel Merlin's magic well with anger. There was a deep thump in Arthur's chest and the man was sent flying.

"_Arthur, ground!"_ Merlin cried.

Not needing further prompting, Arthur shoved the tip of the sword into the earth. Once again, the magic of the earth exploded into his vision. The sword grew roots of energy and they spiraled outwards, collecting at every tree that Arthur could see. There was a deep rumbling that seemed to thump in time with the earth's heartbeat.

Arthur looked up at the sound of wails and cries of panic. Those that remained alive on the ground began flailing and those that were standing bent and began batting at their ankles with fists and weapons alike. In the dim light, it took a few moments for Arthur to work out that the roots of the trees had forsaken the ground at Emrys' call and rose up to fight their enemies. Arthur smirked and considered taking a moment to look over his wound, but since he had fought his way down the small hill, he decided to return and check on his knights.

Arthur barely had time to turn to them before he was wracked by a fire that spread from his right hand through his body. He heard Merlin scream, and he didn't immediately realize that he was wailing as well. His head felt like it would burst and his limbs locked up in pain. A door slammed shut in his mind. There was no more mix of emotions. He felt like he no longer shared his mind with another. The sword slipped from his grasp and he felt the earth embrace him as he collapsed into the dirt.

* * *

I apologize for the cliffhanger. I had intended to write the entire next confrontation but this chapter was getting a little long. The next part is planned out in pretty much every detail, so it shouldn't be long before it is up.

Dont... don't quote me on that. X.X


	17. Their Meeting

Okay, The Heart of Camelot website is awesome. Plowed through this chapter and half of the next one with help from their writing sessions. Love it! Thank you everyone there! Nothing too interesting to say before the start, so let's do the review responses and get on with the chapter!

**Reviewer Responses**

M. of the Mountains: Sorry, chopped the chapter off. Lol. But here is new chapter!

flyaway213: Lol wot?

MegamiTenshiHime: Done!

Solar07: What can I say? I can be a cruel person. You should see the things I do to my characters in my original writing. *wince*

Felicity P: Wait no longer!

ebonypol: You're welcome!

Heart of Diamond: Le thank you!

WE-ARE-SHER-LOCKED: See? Not too long. :)

elflife: Hope you like!

IndiaMoore: Aww, thanks!

blackcallalily: Aaaaaand done!

Linnea.E: Yay! Comforting! :)

CaptainOzone: Aww, thank you! And I like Sir Bedivere as well. I remember searching through the characters for the Arthurian legends and I know Sir Bedivere was one of the knights that was rumored to have thrown Excalibur back into the lake (and returning three times, the reluctant plod) and since he would be protecting Dayla, whose tribe is named after the Lady of the Lake, I thought it appropriate. We'll have to see if I get the chance to run with him. I almost didn't put in the part with Dragoon, but when I explained the conversation to my sister, she thought it was funny enough to include, so thank her. Lol

Liv it up 124: I love Freylin, and I always knew I wanted to have a reference to her. I got this image of Arthur just being pounded in the gut with feelings and went with that.

Glacier22: A mean one?

Angeleye87: Not that I don't appreciate PMs, but here tis! Not too long of a wait, I think? XD

Thank you so much for your reviews! They really push me along in this story! 3

Alright, here we go!

* * *

Arthur never lost consciousness after the jolt, but he quickly wished he had. Every inch of his body burned and ached. The pain remained under the surface of his skin, like it was set in his very bones. He could feel himself shivering against the cold ground below him. His lungs spasmed; his breath coming in shallow gasps. There was a sound in his ears that sounded like a bell being rung on the other side of a thick pillow, and as it cleared he could hear the cries of his knights, attempting to rush to his aide and then being roughly restrained. When he managed to force his eyes open, even the dim light of the setting sun behind the mountain was enough to make him squint and his head throb.

As the tone in his ears died down, so- thankfully- did the pain in his body. It slowly ebbed out of him like water from a skin. He was even more grateful it did when he felt two pairs of rough hands establish powerful grips on his arms and yank him to his knees, putting pressure on his shoulders and holding his hands out behind him like a convict.

Directly in his sights was the fallen Excalibur. The sword had not a scratch or a blemish on it; as perfect as it had been while it was in his hand. Yet Arthur could easily tell that something within it had broken. His mind felt empty without Merlin's presence and he felt naked without the sword in his hand. He desperately pushed his thoughts into the now-vacated part of his mind as though he could will Merlin back to him, but he met only silence.

The sword was picked up and Arthur followed the foreign hands on the hilt to the face of the robed druid he had seen earlier at the mouth of the cave. He found himself suddenly and outrageously offended at the delicate hands that held the blade up. Arthur's ability to sense the dark waves flooding from the cave opening were now gone, but he had no doubt that this man was staining Excalibur with it.

The druid was a tall and handsome man, not too much older than the king himself. He was very thin, the robes hanging from his small frame looking a little too large for him. His hair was ebony black and dead straight, his large eyes the same color. His high cheekbones reminded mildly reminded the king of his servant, but he pushed the thought away; comparing Merlin to this man disturbed him a little.

"A fine blade," said the druid after examining the sword for a moment. His face was passionless, his mouth schooled into a thin line, and his eyes empty of the hatred that Arthur expected to see in those of his conspirators. In fact, his eyes seemed empty of… anything. It was unnerving.

"There's no need to be apprehensive, Your Highness," continued the druid, glancing to the two knights and back again. "No harm will come to you here."

"I see," grumbled Arthur. "I didn't get that impression." He tugged at his arms, but the hands binding him only pressed on him more.

"I am Rowan, the youngest of the Wylt tribe elders. I am simply here to escort you inside and to your room," said the druid giving a shallow bow. "You have nothing to fear from me, My Lords. It is my brothers about which you should be concerned."

He turned and Arthur was pulled to his feet. He was roughly shoved toward the cave and he could hear his knights being ushered in as well. Glancing over his shoulder, he smirked at the trouble the group was having with the Bear. No fewer than five men were currently attempting to restrain Percival, and though they were successfully shoving him into the cave's mouth, they were sure to be sore the next day. Directly behind Arthur, he heard Gwaine laugh as a smaller man sailed past them and hit a small pile of crates.

The cave was as unpleasant as he expected. There was an uneasy feeling in his gut as he looked around. The tunnel that made up the entrance was sloped downward and the king felt as though they were walking into the depths of the earth. The cave was carved open from a clearly-natural formation, and from the smoothness of the ceiling and the floor, it was plain that it had been done with magic. The area was largely deserted aside from one or two men they spotted guarding heavy wooden doors that sat here and there. Hallways branched in every direction and Arthur wondered how it was that the mountain above them remained in its place if this much space was open beneath it.

The king and his knights were lead to a door that sat far from the others. Four men were standing at its sides, crossbows in their hands and swords at their hips. The amount of security made Arthur smirk. These men may have the advantage, but clearly they were frightened of him. The door rumbled open to reveal a rather large square room. Against one wall, the king could see all manner of chains and manacles, some attached to the wall and others sitting loose on the ground. Directly above them, a dim light filtered down into a small circle on the floor from a long thin shaft that seemed to lead all the way to the sky above.

Arthur was secured first, his arms being pulled high behind his back until the muscles in his shoulders strained. His forearms were placed flush against the wall, his hands below his elbows, and locked there by thick manacles forcing him to remain on his knees and slightly bent forward. He growled at the discomfort and looked up as best he could at Rowan, who stood against the opposite wall still examining the sword.

He had to smile again as he heard Percival begin to struggle against the group of men that still held to him. Gwaine was quickly pushed against the wall to Arthur's left, forced to sit down, and had his hands pinned just above his head by another set of manacles. Two large man, each only slightly smaller than Percival, managed to pull his arms out to his sides and forced his head down while another two seemed to place all of their strength into holding the Bear's wrists where they were. After much fussing, struggling, and yelling, Percival was chained against the wall again, though his arms were hung high above his head and a few rough kicks to his gut were given out before the men finally vacated the room.

Percival chuckled at the attacks on his abdomen and looked to Rowan. "We do our best to make sure your victory is unpleasant. " Arthur heard Gwaine snort in agreement.

Rowan seemed unaffected by the statement, not even lifting his eyes from the sword he continued to examine. Arthur glared at the druid's hands. "What did you do to my sword?" he demanded.

Finally, Rowan met his eyes. "It was a simple containment spell." He didn't seem too keen to elaborate and the door to the room suddenly burst open. Two more men, each with a robe like Rowan's on, strode into the room.

The first was a middle-aged man, his hair showing flecks of gray, but his thick body and square jaw reflected a man not physically ailed by age. A smirk that matched the wickedness in his blue eyes curved his lips as he looked over the three men. The second man to enter was what Arthur had expected when he heard the term 'elder'. He was an old man with a thin white beard that reached to his collarbone and a head that possessed only a few wisps of short hair. He had a bent body and a scarred face, relying heavily on the gnarled branch he was using as a cane, and he looked at Arthur with green eyes heavy with anger and pain.

"My brothers," said Rowan, pushing off the wall and motioning to the middle-aged man. "Meurig." He gave a bow to the older man and presented the sword to him. Meurig looked to the king- an arrogant smirk on his face- and then began to examine the sword as Rowan had done. Rowan stepped past Meurig and placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "And Rhodri."

The broad-shouldered Meurig stepped forward, and the chained men could feel his presence suddenly possess the room. He looked the sword up and down, swinging it experimentally a few times. "A fine sword," he said, repeating Rowan's words from earlier. "The finest I've seen." He looked at the golden plates on either side and ran his eyes down the inscriptions. "When I heard that King Arthur of Camelot was using a sword of magic," he said, smiling and tossing Arthur a glance the king figured Merlin would have called 'pompous', "I thought it was a joke." He frowned. "But it seems that hypocrisy runs in the Pendragon blood."

"You should know," chuckled Gwaine defiantly. "Serving Morgana _Pendragon_ as you do."

With speed as fast as any unarmored knight, Meurig was in his face and slammed his broad hand across Gwaine's face. The knight didn't seem bothered by the red mark that began to mar his cheek; he seemed almost pleased. Without another word, Meurig stood and wandered back to the room's center to look at Arthur again, examining the sword once more and his eyes were drawn to the sparkling red gem that sat against the hilt.

Arthur felt his heart drop into his stomach and burst into a flurry of butterflies. Did he know the significance of its place on the sword?

Meurig tapped the stone with his finger, as though attempting to get its attention and Arthur swallowed nervously. After examining it once more, the druid smirked. "This is the Carr Emrys, is it not?" he asked with a chuckle. "Missing your warlock, are you?"

Arthur floundered for something to say. He still didn't know if the sorcerers understood the nature of the golden piece, and if he could avoid it, he wanted to avoid telling them himself. "Something like that," he finally growled.

Meurig's smirk continued for a moment, before a look of realization overtook his face. The butterflies in Arthur's stomach sprang to life again. He held the hilt up, moving forward a bit as though he were displaying it for the king's benefit. "You thought the other half would be here, didn't you?"

Arthur let out a breath he hoped Meurig didn't catch. Perhaps they didn't know after all, but Arthur refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He stared defiantly at the man and after a long moment Meurig burst into chuckles, standing straight and walking a few feet away from the king.

"I'm sure you're well aware that Morgana expected you to come here," he began, swinging the sword blithely, "so why on earth would she leave it here for you to find?" Again, the king and his knights were silent and Meurig eventually went back to examining the weapon, weighing it in his hands as one might weigh fruit or meat. "Either way, the sword seems powerful," he finally muttered.

"You have _no_ idea," said Arthur with a small smirk of his own.

"Oh don't I?" asked Meurig as though daring the man to somehow prove his statement. When Arthur could provide none, the druid shrugged and walked to the wall opposite the prisoners and balanced the blade on its tip, leaning it against the wall. He dug his hand into a pocket within the folds of his robe and produced something that Arthur had to squint to see. One end of a long, thin, and elegant chain fell from his hand until the last link brushed the floor. He draped the chain over the hilt of the sword as though adorning someone with a shroud, twirling it so that it encompassed the blade two or three times. Once finished, he took a step back and aimed an open hand at the weapon.

"_Weorc untoworpenlic! (1)"_

Suddenly the chains tightened, holding flush against the blade and the hilt until there was not a single bit of it that remained loose. Meurig turned and smiled at Arthur. "Just in case," he said quietly, placing a finger to his lips as though he were sharing a secret.

As Meurig finished, the king couldn't help but notice the old man, Rhodri, hobbling slowly toward him. Also catching sight of the old man, Meurig seemed to give the floor to him and strode over to the heavy door, pounding on it until it opened a crack. "Tell everyone to gather their things. We ride for Camelot at dawn."

If there was a response, Arthur missed it. Rhodri was in his face suddenly, his scarred skin and wild eyes staring deeply into his own and burning them with rage. He felt one of his gnarled hands tangle itself in his short blonde hair for a moment before it was cruelly yanked back, stopped only by the strain on his shoulders.

"In a few days time," began Rhodri, his voice quavering with anger and what sounded to Arthur like grief, "you will kneel before the _rightful_ queen of Camelot. And before she separates that pretty head from your shoulders, you will be made to see your precious Emrys _die_." His hand clenched tighter and pulled a little harder, forcing a small yelp from Arthur's throat as his shoulders screamed in protest. "Magic will finally return to the land, and you will finally pay for all that has happened." Arthur could feel the old man's hand shaking as it clenched with all the might he possessed. "My granddaughters... my sister... my nieces and nephews." Each word seemed to be a knife twisting in Rhodri's stomach judging by the pain in his eyes, and he did not once take them from Arthur's.

Far behind Rhodri, he saw Rowan take a step toward the old man. "They must be undamaged when they are presented to the Lady Morgana," the young one insisted.

Rhodri didn't seem to hear him and Meurig placed a hand on Rowan's shoulder. "Leave him. He's waited longer than any of us for this."

Arthur's eyes returned to Rhodri. Tears were slowly leaking from his aged green eyes. "I hope their spirits haunt you long after the Lady Morgana displays your head on the gates to the city," he growled in such a dark tone that it might've been less disturbing had the man screamed it at the top of his lungs. With those last words, he shoved Arthur's head forward with enough force to bounce his chin off his chest and hobbled back toward the wooden door. Rowan was quickly at his side, an arm looped under his for support.

Meurig smiled at the three prisoners, his thick arms crossed, but before he could leave, Arthur cried, "Let my knights go. Morgana's grief is with me, not them." Percival and Gwaine began to hiss objections at him, but he ignored them. He stared up at Meurig, whose eyes were filled with a strange and perverted amusement.

"Oh, I don't think so," said the large druid as Rowan opened the door for Rhodri. "The Lady Morgana says they are fantastic entertainment." He followed the other elders out and the three were left in silence.

The silence that filled the room after their exit was deafening. The room was large and filled with absolutely nothing save that small shaft of light that was steadily retreating. The air was musty and just cold enough to burn his lungs. The stone against which Arthur's forearms were shackled seemed to get no warmer as time passed, as though the wall were sucking the warmth from them. He wiggled a little, trying to find a position- any position- that would allow his shoulders some relief. He found none and he soon slumped forward until his forehead was as close to the floor as his biceps would allow. The muscles in his shoulders shook with the odd position and he consciously tried to relax them, though he had little luck.

He heard the heavy chains on his right clink together as Percival leaned toward him. "Are you alright, My Lord?" he asked.

"Of course," groaned Arthur, attempting to put some amount of humor into his voice. Strangled as it was, not much humor reached his knights. "They're just doing this to spite me."

"But what happened?" asked Gwaine. He could hear the man shuffling a little. "With the sword outside?"

Arthur turned his head to look at the dark-haired knight. "I don't know. All of a sudden there was this... pain." He winced at the thought of it. "And then there was just nothing. It was like Merlin was just pulled from my head."

"Well is he alright?" asked Percival, glancing across the room at the chained sword.

Arthur dared not strain his shoulders anymore and simply shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't heard or felt anything from it."

There was an odd silence that followed as Gwaine and Percival stared at the sword, attempting to come up with some sort of solution or explanation. However, ignorant as they were to magic in general, they could hardly come up with much to combat a containment spell. So Gwaine stuck with the first thing that popped into his head.

"Merlin!" he hissed, glancing to the door to ensure it didn't fly open to permit inquisitive guards. Percival gave him a strange look and Arthur turned his head to him and raised an upside-down eyebrow. Gwaine glanced to them but ignored the expressions and instead hissed again, "Merlin! Can you hear us?" Silence. "Merlin!"

When his voice grew louder, the wooden door suddenly flew open and a heavy-set man with crooked teeth and a straggly beard stuck his head in the door, a crossbow hanging from one hand. He threw a glare at the three of them. "You got somfin' wot needs sayin'?" he demanded.

Gwaine looked to Percival and then back to the guard before saying, with as much confidence as he could muster, "Merlin." The guard stared at him for a long moment. "Merlin," said Gwaine again as though the name alone should have explained everything the guard needed to know. "I like merlins," he continued.

The man raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Wot's a merlin?" he demanded, trying to decide if he should be offended by the term or not.

"Well, it's a hawk!" chipped Percival quickly when he saw Gwaine begin to flounder. "Merlins are birds."

Gwaine glanced to Percival and then nodded quickly. The man took a moment to regard the two of them before giving them an eye roll and pulling the door closed behind him. Gwaine let out a breath and exchanged a look with Percival. They couldn't help but smile as Arthur chuckled beside them.

"You like merlins, eh?" he asked.

Gwaine shrugged. "What? I heard Edlyn mention them."

"_-thur!"_

Arthur's back straightened, disregarding the strain on his shoulders now, and raised his head until he could see the chained sword. "Merlin?!" he cried.

"Oi!" came the muffled shout of the man outside, accompanied by a few heavy pounds of his thick fist. "Shut up wif your birds!"

Arthur ignored the door and looked to the knights. "Did you hear that?" he asked, dropping his voice to just above a whisper.

Gwaine and Percival shook their heads and looked to the sword. "Nothing," answered the Bear.

"_Arthur!"_ The voice was quieter than a whisper, like a breath in the back of his mind.

Arthur smiled. "Merlin! What happened to you?"

"_Containment spell."_

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I got that. But what did it _do_?"

"_Trapped in... gem,"_ said Merlin, his voice fading into the background a little and then returning.

"Are you alright?" asked Arthur, lowering his voice further. The connection between their minds was weak and quiet, but in that gaping hole that had been left by Merlin's absence there trickled a small bit of magic.

"_Yes... -king on undoing the..."_

Arthur felt more than heard Merlin's confirmation and he nodded to his knights. "He's alright. He's trying to break the enchantment." He let his back relax and his forehead once again hung just above the floor. "Hopefully he can do it before tomorrow."

~ooOoo~

Another explosion rocked the very stone they stood on and Dayla yelped, burying her face in Gwen's shoulder as dust and small chips of stone rained down on them. Gwen hoisted the druid a little higher on her hip and placed her free hand on her back. At her feet, Frio cooed and squeaked, hopping this way and that as though trying to figure out something to be done.

Sir Bedivere stood at the window, staring unflinchingly down at the chaos that had consumed the large courtyard. He could see Leon's blonde head standing at the entrance to the palace, ushering a throng of women, children, and elderly into the vaults.

"I should be down with Gaius," said the queen suddenly. Bedivere turned to find her looking at him, a pleading look on her face.

"I've sent people to help with the injured, Your Highness," he assured her.

She shook her head. "I've been helping him for years. I'm much better prepared for something like this."

Fighting the normal rules of decorum that screamed from within his head, he placed a hand on the shoulder opposite Dayla. It made him a little uncomfortable to be touching the queen at all, but the woman looked like she needed it. "With the king gone, you must keep yourself safe. We need you to guide us until he returns."

The absolute confidence with which the knight said the last sentence didn't quite ease Gwen's nerves, but she felt something settle in her stomach. Arthur would return, and he would do so soon.

The queen let out a rather un-queenly squeak as the arms around her neck tightened suddenly and then released. Dayla spasmed a little and then pulled back, her brown eyes wide with terror.

"The... the fox," she mumbled. She looked into Guinevere's eyes. "The witch has breached my wall!"

* * *

1: Inviolable suffering! From the episode _The Tears of Uther Pendragon: Part One_

That probably counts as another cliffhanger, eh? Sorreh.


	18. Her Time

Hello from Ichibancon! I am in North Carolina where my friends' and my panel group was asked to provide panels at the convention, so after a gueling drive here, I am enjoying the hotel immensely. Lol

And yet I still managed to find the time to write. I'm proud of me! 8D

So thank you to everyone at the Heart of Camelot site! Not only did they listen to me gripe about having to write a siege, they helped me with several writing sessions that helped me push through! I hope you all are happy about the results!

Reviewer Responses

Glacier22: Yeah... Merlin does tend to get the short end of the stick of... everything. Doesn't he?

StarWritingFlute200: Hope the answers to your questions is everything you hoped! Lol

MegamiTenshiHime: Everyone in my stories is always screwed. Always... every single time. XD

Liv it up 124: Lol, I love Gwaine. I have found that I really enjoy writing Gwen. I have always loved her character and I think that it makes her a lot more fun to write for. She's got her own type of BAMF.

CaptainOzone: You're right. I'm not, LOL. I got this idea that Morgana is using the druids as her main strength and intelligence in her army, but the rest of the mercenaries and bandits are basically just there to fill space so any idiot with a desire for gold would have wound up on her side. XD I like the elders too. I've pretty much been developing the ideas for them since I started writing the story, so to finally see them come out was a lot of fun!

blackcallalily: Done!

IndiaMoore: Here 'tis!

Angeleye87: Once again, not that I mind PM's, but here's the next chapter! Hope it was soon enough for you! XD

Emrys Is Merlin: Always her, innit?

DairyMilk123: Glad you like Sword!Merlin! And yeah... worried about my mental health is probably the direction to go there. LOL I got really into the Hawking thing during my research for this story, and I'm glad it has come across so well. And you haven't weirded me out, hun. Not only do I got to anime conventions, I have thought the same thing. XD Actually I think I originally planned on putting a line about that somewhere earlier, but it just never felt right.

1983Sarah: Yeah, Dayla has appeared as quite the enigmatic character through the story, but I wanted to try and reinforce that she is still, in essence, a child. She was forced to grow up quickly simply because of the nature of her family's duty, but even more so after what happened to her family. I got the feeling that Gwen would bond strongly with her simply because of Gwen's compassion.

lilyflower1345: Yeah, when I came up with the idea for Sword!Merlin, opening Arthur's mind to understanding was one of the things I was excited about. The idea that Arthur would get a glimpse into true magic was something I loved writing. And it isn't over yet!

AmberW: Eeee! Thank you!

Alright, here we go!

* * *

The night was long and painful. Small glimpses of sleep were caught in between the spasms of his shoulders and the sharp pain radiating from his ribs. Each breath felt as though it were being torn from his chest, and he called upon every bit of experience he had with broken ribs to calm himself and simply get him through the night. Several times he attempted to speak to Merlin, though the concentration it required to direct his thoughts or the physical strength it took to raise his voice were absent within the span of two or three tries. Even if Merlin had replied to the king, his mind was too fuzzy with exhaustion from the fight, the day's ride and the pain from his injuries to comprehend what had been said. In the end, perhaps an hour of actual sleep had been gotten, snatched only when his body had reached the absolute end of his energy reserves.

The air in the morning was even colder than it had been the night before and a shiver pulled Arthur fully alert. From what he could tell, the knights at his sides had slept through most of the night (the bastards) and only came to when the large wooden door in the left of the room rumbled open. Meurig was leading the small procession of elders inside; the impassive Rowan helping Rhodri in the door and depositing the old man against the wall. They were not dressed in the robes from the day before, but traveling clothes with a sword at each hip. A flick of Meurig's hand signaled five armed men to flood the room, drawing swords and aiming crossbows at the three prisoners.

"I hope your stay was satisfactory," mocked Meurig. Beside him, Rowan pulled out a large set of iron keys and made his way through the mercenaries toward the king.

Arthur smiled. "Oh of course. I might replace my bed with a set of these," he laughed, tapping the wall behind him.

"_Arthur!"_

The king sat up straighter, looking around as though fearing the enemy would catch on. But like the night before, the words seemed only whispered in his mind. Merlin's voice was much louder and stronger than it had been and it filled Arthur with a cautious hope.

"_Be ready!"_

Arthur's mind spun for a moment, forcing energy into his muscles like winding a rope tight. He snapped his fingers quietly, then flattened his hands against the wall and tapped twice, hoping the knights noticed and were ready.

Rowan knelt before the king and grabbed the heavy lock that hung from the manacles.

And then something snapped.

There was a rush of air from the opposite side of the room, followed by a bright flash of light and the sound of metal on stone. Magic rushed into Arthur's mind so fast he nearly flinched. The group of mercenaries turned their weapons toward the commotion and Arthur saw his chance.

He opened his hand.

The instant the cool metal of the hilt was in his palm something felt complete within his mind. It was not Merlin's mind that belonged within his, but the sword itself that belonged in his hand. His body moved almost of its own accord. From years of training and battles fought, there were instincts so engrained in his mind that he could fight some of the younger knights without the slightest concentration. His shoulders loosened and the pain in them ebbed away. The broken rib that had been pushed to the back of his mind snapped back into place with nothing more than a slightly uncomfortable click and a mild wince. A deep thrum resonated in his chest as Merlin's magic flooded him, running through his arms and slamming violently into the manacles that held him bound. His left hand gripped tight the druid's shoulder and his other thrust the sword forward.

Before Arthur fully came to himself, he was staring into Rowan's lifeless eyes.

"Rowan!" screamed Meurig. At his side, Rhodri seemed ready to faint and leaned against the back wall, slowly moving to stand behind the larger druid.

The cry of their patron seemed to spur the already-anxious mercenaries- it seemed a feat that none had shot the knights out of surprise at seeing a sword fly across the room into the king's hand and then immediately kill a man- into action and every single crossbow in the room loosed its arrow. Arthur stood and Merlin's magic spread quickly around him and his knights like a large pair of protective arms. The bolts slowed, then spun and shot back at those that had fired them, impaling legs, torsos, and even one neck.

Arthur wasn't sure he was ready to admit it to anyone- even himself- but the return of magic to his mind was like breaking the surface of the water and taking his first gulp of pure air. His mind and emotions were once again mixed with Merlin's and he could feel the servant smirk.

" _Sorry that took so long," _he said.

Arthur smiled as well and waved the sword across his front, the tip brushing the stone at his feet and sending a few sparks flying. The manacles holding Percival and Gwaine shattered and the two men stood, rubbing away the soreness on their wrists and eyeing the mercenaries with confidence. "I thought you were meant to be _good_ at this, Merlin. The best in fact," chuckled Arthur. The king's eyes flashed gold and two of the sword-wielding men were yanked forward as their weapons were wrenched from their grasps. The hilts were presented to the knights and they happily took them. "A simple druid stuffs you back into your gem and it takes you a whole night to break out? Perhaps we should warn all the druid tribes that Emrys is a bit of an idiot." As one, the three aimed their swords at the last bandit. He hesitated no longer, dropping his sword and dashing back out the open door, the unarmed and uninjured men hot on his heels.

"Emrys..." whispered Meurig suddenly, taking a step back. "Emrys is here?" he demanded.

Arthur held up the sword, pointing at the gem fixed to the hilt. "Here."

At first, Meurig floundered for a way to react, but a glance over his shoulder seemed to suddenly bolster his confidence. Rhodri's voice rose above them, shouting in a foreign tongue and Arthur's body suddenly locked up as it had the day before. He screamed as another containment spell tore through him. Fire crawled down his back and through each bone in his body. Pain burst into his head, forcing his eyes shut.

But just as soon as it had come, it was over. He did not fall completely to the ground. Almost immediately after his legs gave out on him, they strengthened and he caught himself on one knee. The magic had been pulled from his mind again, but something about this spell felt different than the one the day before. His body rebounded and he leapt to his feet, forcing himself forward and slashing down at Meurig with all his strength. The large man pulled his own sword and steel clashed against steel. Gwaine and Percival rushed past their king toward Rhodri and Arthur could hear the old man muttering short spells to defend himself.

Meurig was a better swordsman than Arthur would have figured for a druid elder. Each slash was parried, and each attack difficult to dodge.

"Whether Emrys is somehow helping you or not, your kingdom will fall! Morgana is besieging Camelot as we speak!" cried Meurig, swinging down his sword with one hand and bringing his other fist around to slam into Arthur's previously-damaged chest. Arthur did little more than grunt at the impact and he silently thanked Merlin's magic for healing him. He brought his mind into a sharp focus but unlike before, Merlin's magic did not respond. The containment spell had once again erected a wall between the magic of the sword and the king's mind, but something about this wall seemed unsteady. It was a dam beginning to rupture. "Even if you were to make it out of here alive, your city will fall long before you can reach it!" cried Meurig, bringing his blade down on Arthur with strength enough to buckle the king's knees beneath him.

Though they had been bolstered, Arthur's shoulders screamed the weight of Meurig's strike. "Just as you shouldn't assume that Camelot is helpless without her king," he began, tipping his sword and sending the strength of Meurig's swing down to the stone beneath them. Arthur was at his side in an instant. "Don't assume I'm helpless without my warlock." The point of the blade slid easily between the large man's ribs and reappeared between his neck and shoulder. The light faded from Meurig's eyes almost instantly and Arthur let the large man fall from his blade. A pool of red began to form beneath him, the blood sliding into the cracks between the stones and snaking its way toward the fallen body of Rowan.

"NO!" Rhodri's scream echoed in the small room and Arthur felt himself blasted from the side. The magic that was suddenly loosed suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. He lost his footing and flew back toward the wall where he and his knights had spent their night. His back slammed against the stone, expelling the air from his lungs and he struggled to breath in again. The pressure that had sent him flying did not retreat: it continued to compress him as though it was trying its best to pulverize the king. A glance to his sides told him that Gwaine and Percival were in the same predicament. Gwaine's small frame was light enough that his feet were off the floor and he was held completely aloft by the pressure.

"Your reign has ended!" shouted Rhodri, his green eyes wild and manic. "Morgana Pendragon will bring true peace to this land, and our children will finally be at peace!"

_SNAP_

The pressure released and Merlin's magic flooded his mind again. His body reacted and as his weight relaxed back onto his feet, he gripped Excalibur tight. A wave of sympathy washed over him as he thought about the old man's words the night before. Such pain and grief had been inflicted upon the druid people, and this man was but one of the victims driven to madness by his loss. But whatever Arthur may have felt for this man was completely cleansed from his mind at the thought of what he would see done to his kingdom and its people. "I'm sorry," he muttered quietly before throwing the sword with all his might at the druid. The blade impaled itself through the old man's throat and he collapsed into a heap.

Arthur held out his hand again and the sword sailed into his grip. The instant his hand touched it, a shiver of discomfort and no small amount of disgust ran up his arm. He glanced at the blood-stained blade. "Merlin?"

"_Oh that was horrible," the servant moaned._

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that bad Merlin. We came out alright."

A tense silence followed. _"Have _you_ ever been plunged through a man's gut?"_ he suddenly demanded. _"Wipe the blade off, will you?!"_

Arthur paused at Merlin's outburst, but obeyed and grabbed a thick cloth from one of the fallen men and rubbed it down the blade. He could feel it was barely clean enough to satisfy Merlin's sensibilities, but he threw the cloth down anyway and shoved the sword into his belt.

"We have to get to Camelot!"

Gwaine and Percival exchanged a look and hurried after their king.

"We're at least two days ride from the city, Sire!" cried Percival. The cave outside their prison was mostly deserted except for one injured crossbowman, who leaned against one of the stone pillars, a hand gripped tight around his bleeding leg. The three paid him no attention and dashed toward the entrance of the cave. "How are we to get to Camelot in time?"

A pair of druids met them at the cave entrance. One of them pulled a knife and the other held out a hand. Arthur growled. He had no time to be held up again. He held the sword before his body, and the wave of magic that the druid threw at them rebounded and sent the druids flying.

The camps outside were full of men, but none bore the black cloak of the enemy druids. They scrambled away from them and the knights and their king were premitted access to the road that would lead them back to where their horses had been tied.

"We have to trust that the knights can hold Morgana's forces at bay until we can get there. I don't suppose you could figure something out, Merlin?" asked Arthur. "Perhaps speed the horses?"

_"I think I can do a bit better..."_

Arthur nodded and pushed Excalibur into his belt. "If it gets us to Camelot in less than two days, I will take it."

~ooOoo~

It started as a sound.

The instant her energy had connected with the gem of Taliesin, the city's layout had been in her head; in her heart. As magic exploded against the shield around the city, Dayla heard it as though it were happening in the very room she was in. But as the day wore on and then gave in to night, the sound got louder until it was no longer a sound at all; it became a feeling. Each explosion of magic hit her heart as though she had been slapped. As the men attempting to invade came to understand what it was that they were up against, the pounding began. Battering rams, weapons, and angry fists pounded against the invisible barrier, turning into a deep thudding in her chest. But even that she had gotten used to.

And then Morgana walked straight through her.

She flinched in Guinevere's arms, holding her tighter before pulling back and looking at the queen. "The... the fox... the witch has breached my wall!"

For an instant, the druid had felt completely crushed, as though two walls were pressing in on her. And then there was nothing but a fleck of impurity within the layout in her head. Morgana was walking the city.

Guinevere dropped to her knees and settled Dayla gently on the floor, taking her small face in her hands. "Dayla, what do you mean? Do you mean Morgana?" she asked quickly.

Dayla nodded. Suddenly the pounding began quietly in her head as well. It was getting more pronounced with each second. "She walked through me like I was nothing," cried the child. A realization struck her and she sent pleading, tear-filled eyes at the queen. "If she's in here then," she glanced to the table where Merlin lay. "then if Emrys dies it will be my fault!"

Gwen shook her head. "Not at all, Dayla. None of this is your fault."

Dayla sat down and slumped a little, Frio (who had been wandering around Guinevere's knees since she picked the child up) wandering over to nestle down next to her thigh. "Mama would have been able to do it." Once again- and for more than one reason- the queen felt her heart break.

"Dayla, look at me," Gwen demanded. The girl obeyed. "Such a burden should not have come onto your shoulders. This is not your fault."

The druid girl shrugged. "It's my job. Mama was the real guardian of Taliesin's gem. Because of... what happened, I had to do it." A soft smile forced its way onto Dayla's lips and for the first time Guinevere feared for the child. "Besides... helping makes me feel better."

As Frio got the child's attention, Gwen stood and wandered to the table where the sleeping Merlin lay. "Helping makes her feel better," she whispered so softly she almost couldn't hear herself. She had seen love turn to bitterness and hate before; up close and in detail. She had watched as Morgana had crumbled from a loving and caring woman into the twisted witch that became the bane of every citizen of Camelot. Was this simple phrase a sign of bitterness and revenge in a child who was too young and innocent to fully understand them? If it was, could she do anything but watch as the love gave way to hate and the innocence give way to damaging wisdom?

She shook the thoughts from her head as another explosion rocked the council chambers and she caught sight of Merlin's face. He was such a stark contrast to their surroundings: his face was so peaceful even covered in dust as it was. She pulled a rag from her pocket and began brushing his cheeks clean as Bedivere approached from his self-appointed post at the window.

"How does it look?" she asked, not looking up.

"Well, the walls are holding it seems. I haven't seen any injured or dead come through the coutyard so I would assume nothing big has happened at the gates," said the knight, shifting anxiously.

"Sir Bedivere," said Gwen suddenly, hunching her shoulders in thought and pausing in her dusting of Merlin's face. "There's something I need you to understand." The tall knight took a step closer to the queen, but when she turned to face him she couldn't help but notice the man was a stickler for tradition and still remained a few wide paces away. "The guards outside the door are the ones here to protect me," she said firmly. He cocked his head at her. "Your job is to ensure that Merlin and Dayla remain safe. If anything should happen-"

"But My Lady!" cried the knight.

She silenced him with a wave of her hand. "If anything should happen to me during the battle, you _must_ keep them safe. Your duty right now is with them."

She could see the struggle in his eyes. Bedivere had been snatched from the battle lines to cower in the council chambers -as she had now doubts he saw it- and now he was being told that if things became dangerous, his queen's safety was not his first priority. She could see everything he had learned from Arthur and from the knights' code struggling against his oath to obey orders.

He glanced to Merlin's still face and then looked behind her at Dayla. His eyes widened. "My Lady!"

She followed his indicating hand and looked down to where Dayla had huddled down against one of the large council chairs, hugging her knees tightly against her chest and ignoring Frio's attempt to comfort her. The small girl was shuddering violently as though someone were shaking her. Guinevere had spun and was on her knees in front of the girl in an instant. "Dayla! What's wrong?" she demanded.

Dayla's eyes were wide open and manic as she stared sightlessly at her knees. Her voice was hoarse and cracked a little when she spoke. "They're..." Tears welled in her eyes. "They're hitting the wall... so hard..." Tears streamed down the small girl's dusty face, leaving pale tracks.

The pounding continued. It was as though her mind were being assaulted from every angle. She could feel every fist, every battering ram, every weapon come down against the wall with an angry cry.

And suddenly it all came to an end with an explosion of pain that made her fear for an instant that her heart had burst. She gave a short screech and fell onto her side, curling in on herself while Guinevere could do little but watch. Her body convulsed slightly and a sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead, her face scrunched in pain.

The girl's strange behavior, as well as Merlin's current state, were not things that Bedivere understood at all, but excessive curiosity was not something he had ever found himself cursed with- specifically when there were so much more important things to be concerned with. A deep thrum seemed to pass through the entire city like a roll of thunder crawling along the ground and echoing in his chest. From the squeak of the queen, she had felt it as well.

"What's happened?" she demanded of no one, looking up at the window.

When Guinevere looked back to Dayla, the child had uncurled and propped herself up on her hands, her eyes drawn also the the one view they had of the city. Her brown eyes were once again filled with terror.

"She broke it..." she whispered. "The witch... she broke the wall!"

How the girl knew this or what wall she was referring to didn't seem to matter to Bedivere; the sudden shift in the atmosphere along with the tension that overcame the queen's body was enough to spur him into action. He ran to the window, but the view down into the courtyard seemed to offer little information. Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had changed. A heavy feeling descended upon Camelot and every citizen could feel it even if only a few of them could identify what it was:

Evil.

Guinevere remained crouched by Dayla's prone form for another moment or two before gathering the shivering child into her arms and holding her close, placing a kiss on the top of her head. A deafening silence descended upon the room, matched by a disturbing amount of silence outside the windows. Bedivere began pacing, his long red cloak sweeping the ground behind him and kicking up dust and bits of mortar as he moved. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes- though it seemed to be hours to the anxious knight- before the doors to the council chambers flew open to permit Leon and Elyan.

Gwen stood, bringing Dayla up with her. The small druid leaned her head heavily on the queen's shoulder and the had to check a few times to see that the girl had not fallen asleep.

"What's happening?" asked Guinevere.

"They've rushed the west and southern gates with battering rams. Morgana must have told them exactly where our pitch barrels are mounted because their sorcerers are keeping us from using them. They're even protecting those with the battering rams safe from our archers," reported Leon. There was a strange exasperation in his voice that almost seemed ill-suited to the direness of the situation. Gwen easily figured that years of fighting for Camelot would quickly do that to any knight.

"It's only a matter of time before they get in. With their numbers, I don't know how long we can hold them in the lower town," continued Elyan.

"Are the barricades up?" asked Bedivere.

Leon nodded. "They won't buy us much time with the druids and sorcerers coming for us, though."

Gwen remained quiet, her mind spinning while she cradled and slightly rocked the druid girl in her arms, who looked barely conscious at this point. Despite what Gwen knew about her, she looked then no different than a young child ready to fall asleep during nap time.

"Are there any citizens still in the lower towns?" she asked suddenly, interrupting the conversation that had continued while she pondered.

Leon looked to her. "No. They've been evacuated to the vaults and the citadel. Each gate has two full platoons of knights ready for when they finally break down the door. I'll have the men at the northern gates relocate to the gates that are under attack."

Gwen stopped him as he turned to leave. "No, Leon." she commanded. The knight spun. "Order your men to retreat from the gates. Light the barricades and gather in the courtyard."

The three knights stared at her for a long moment.

"But... My Lady," began Leon, taking a step forward.

Gwen ignored him and moved to the table to sit Dayla on the edge. "They have superior numbers?" she asked curtly.

"Yes, My Lady," answered Leon.

"And superior firepower?" she demanded, grabbing Dayla's cloak and throwing it about her thin shoulders as Frio hopped up onto the table and trotted over to examine the druid. She didn't wait for an answer and picked the girl up again, turning to look at the three knights. "Our firepower is coming and we must protect the city until it arrives."

Elyan took a step forward and she could see her brother overtake the knight in his eyes. "Gwen, we can't-"

"This is Camelot," the queen announced. "We will _never_ assume that Arthur will not return to us." The knights all seemed to retreat a little. This was not simply Elyan's sister or Leon's friend.

This was their Queen.

A bang echoed in the room as something heavy struck the window. Before anything more could be said, the doors opened again to permit a tall thin man; flustered and winded.

"Your Highness!" he cried, running to her and collapsing onto one knee in front of her. "The horses, My Lady!" he cried. "They're all dead!"

Gwen hugged Dayla tighter. This was certainly not what she had expected to hear. Another bang against the window turned the heads in the room for a brief moment, but when nothing followed they looked back to the messenger.

"What do you mean?" demanded the queen.

"Every horse in the royal stables, My Lady. They've all just... died!" he continued.

Leon and Elyan exchanged a look then then glanced to the queen. Another bang hit the window, loud enough this time for Bedivere to scurry over and look out at the strangely still city. Another bang.

"Your Highness!" cried the knight suddenly. Gwen hurried as best she could to the window, glancing out and up as much as she was able to see several small objects dropping from the room above them to sail toward the ground far below. "They're coming from the rookery," said Bedivere.

"It's the messenger birds," she muttered, watching as limp wings rolled away from their bodies as they seemingly dropped from the sky. She craned her neck against the window to glance to the other rookery across the courtyard. The dead birds were spilling from the tower as though water from a boiling bot.

Gwen took a step back in shock, clutching Dayla closer to her, and looked to Leon, who seemed to be coming to the same conclusion. "She's cutting us off," said the queen. She immediately turned to Frio, who had nestled next to Merlin, but to her relief the bird didn't seem affected by it.

"Without horses, we can't run... and now we can't call for help," said Elyan, pulling Gwen's attention back to the knights.

There was a long pause as the knights waited for orders. Gwen's insistence earlier had clearly shown she intended to take some form of control and so they waited.

She set her shoulders and shrugged Dayla a little bit away from her body. "Dayla, can you stand?" she asked.

The girl rubbed her eyes sleepily and nodded. "I think I can."

The queen placed her on her unsteady feet and took hold of her hand as she looked back to the knights. "Leon, give the order to retreat. I want every knight past the front archways and out of the main part of the courtyard. Light the barricades. Those and the doors should be able to hold them off long enough to get all the knights to safety." Leon glanced to Elyan before nodding and the two jogged out. She looked to the messenger, who had rolled to the side to sit down, but he leapt to his feet when he saw her turn toward him. "I want you to take three of the guards outside and go to the store rooms. Gather every barrel of oil that we have down there and put them into the main courtyard. Get help from others if you need to, but do it fast."

Not questioning a thing, the messenger bowed and shot back out the door. Bedivere crossed the room to the queen.

The sound of the warning bell split the air above their heads, and the sounds that followed filled their hearts with dread.

Two quick rings were followed by the screams of a man and then silence. The stillness twisted Gwen's stomach with fear, feeling as though she were standing on the edge of a hill and simply waiting to be pushed over the top.

The silence was broken by a screeching noise that sent terror down Guinevere's spine. The sound of metal being mangled and twisted was one she heard often as a blacksmith's daughter.

"The bell," she breathed, understanding the screech as though it had been their warning system's dying cry.

As the sound died down, three guards hustled into the room and ran to stand in front of Guinevere. She glanced to them and then shook the terror from her face as best she could before looking to Bedivere.

"Sir Bedivere, you are to take Dayla and Merlin," she said firmly, pulling Dayla along behind her as she marched over to the table. Frio ruffled at the fast movement before hopping down to the floor and wandering around Dayla, nudging her occasionally. "Take them down into the caverns that exist below the city." She spun to face him. "You know how to get to the caves where the great dragon was once held, I assume?"

Bedivere seemed taken aback by the question. "Well... yes, but My Lady!"

She could see the loyalty in his eyes. Every bit of the knight's code within him screamed at the thought of leaving the queen's side during such a siege. She placed a hand suddenly upon his shoulder; an action that startled him far more than she expected.

"I told you before, Bedivere; your job is to protect these two, not me," she insisted. "This is an order from your queen; you will take them down to the caverns and you will remain there and protect them. Do you understand?"

The determination and fire in her eyes left no room for argument and the knight gave in and nodded. He moved to the table and began pulling Merlin onto his shoulders.

Guinevere felt a hand on her breeches and looked down at Dayla, her large brown eyes weary but pleading. "I want to go with you, Gwen."

The queen smiled and knelt in front of the little girl, fussing with the clasp of her cloak. "Dayla, if things start to go badly, you know that the safest place you can be is with Merlin, right?" The girl craned her head to look at the form that was now slumped over Bedivere's shoulders. She turned back to Gwen and nodded meekly. "Then that's where I need you to be. I need you to be safe, alright?" Dayla twiddled her fingers and nodded reluctantly, staring down at them. Gwen gently grasped the girl's chin and raised it until she met her eyes. "And Dayla, if you see Morgana, you run. Run and hide until Merlin or I come to get you. Can you promise me that?"

Dayla considered the order for a moment before smiling weakly and nodding once more. She suddenly threw her arms around Gwen's neck and buried her face in the cloth of her tunic. "I'm scared," she admitted, her voice muffled. Gwen embraced the child and sighed.

"I am too, my love," she whispered. "But you know Merlin and Arthur are going to come and save us, right?" She felt Dayla grip tighter, but nod against her hair. They pulled apart and Gwen placed another kiss in the girl's hair. "Then don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."

From the look on the child's face she didn't believe the queen, but she obediently turned away and followed Bedivere. The knight took one more backwards glance at the queen, standing before her three guards and headed out one of the servant's entrances, Frio cooing and following close at the tails of Dayla's cloak.

Guinevere turned to the guards and smiled a little. "I'm afraid that we are going to have to head to the courtyard," she said with a little shrug.

None of the three seemed bothered at all by the implication, and in fact they all smirked a little. One of them stepped forward. "My Lady, we are with you until the end."

Gwen nodded. "Thank you." She turned and they followed her out the opposite servant door and down the long steps into the main hall leading to the courtyard.

The stillness and quiet that awaited them was almost disturbing. The atmosphere was thick with tension, as though the air itself were building up a rage it was ready to unleash upon the city. There were no cries of battle, no explosions of magic, only the dull thudding of heavy battering rams against the large wooden doors of Camelot. Small dead birds littered the sides of the courtyard that sat closest to the rookery towers. Barrels of oil were already being stacked on top of one another on the other side. Knights were beginning to file away from the gates to the lower town and up into the entrance to the citadel, but even the noise of their footfalls and shifting chain mail seemed subdued. She looked up at the dark sky, the full moon casting stark shadows across the stone ground.

Before long, Leon and Elyan met up with her.

"The barricades are lit?" she asked. They nodded and she glanced to the barrels behind them. She waved the three guards that had followed her over and they rushed to help.

"We are drawing them in, yes?" asked Leon slowly. Gwen nodded. "I will assign archers to the battlements."

Guinevere looked to her brother as the other knight lumbered away. She looked down at her hands and was surprised to find them trembling. Elyan's hands appeared over hers for a moment before he enveloped her in a hug. She burried her head against his neck, sighing into his bright red cloak.

"Arthur will come," he assured her. She nodded into his shoulder.

"I know he will." She pulled back and her brother placed a kiss against her forehead, not bothering to hide the sign of affection from the knights that were still making their way into the citadel. She straightened and drew herself up, looking to the men that were stacking barrels of oil. Elyan jogged away toward the lower town gates to urge the last of the knights into the courtyard.

Gwen jogged over to the barrels and ignored the shocked looks that the guards gave her. "My lady! You should be in the vaults!" cried a young guard.

The queen shook her head. "I am right where I must be," she declared. "Once all of the knights are in the citadel, you are to spread the oil across every inch of this courtyard. Soak every stone up to the steps." The guards paused in their stacking and exchanged several glances. Guinevere turned and looked over the large courtyard and the three gates that permitted access to it from the lower towns. "Their numbers will count for nothing when they are forced through gates that only permit six men across."

The turned to ensure that the guards had begun their task of pouring the oil over the courtyard.

"Let's see how long it takes them to deal with a sea of fire."

~ooOoo~

Bedivere glanced this way and that, making his way through the crowded halls and keeping a tight grip on Dayla's small hand. The castle and citadel were full of the people from the surrounding villages and those that lived within the city walls; those that could not fit within the vaults. But as he made his way further down, the people huddled against the walls and in small groups began to be fewer and fewer until he was in the deserted dungeon-like area that lead down into the caverns that had once housed the imprisoned dragon.

It was only when he pulled the heavy iron gate open that he realized he was alone.

"Dayla!"

* * *

Sorry! More cliffhangers! Oh wait, Oz pointed that out. Not quite sorry! Lol

Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you soon!


	19. Her Appearance

OMG!

I cannot tell you how much I suck for making you all wait this long. Though... I do have a decent excuse. XD Basically, the end of my marriage has become official and I have been dealing with the fallout from all of that. Please, do not say sorry. Lol. I am so much happier now. The very fact that I am writing this story is proof that I have survived the intense emotional mess that the entire situation had me in. I have emerged!

I originally was going to chop this chapter off around the 3.5k mark simply because that is pretty much the average of most of my chapters, but for waiting so long, I give you moar wordz. I hope you've been looking forward to some magic battling!

**Reviewer Responses**

Heart of Diamond: Eh-heh... sorry. It's the final fight! I can't very well NOT have cliffhangers, now can I?

MegamiTenshiHime: Oh he wants to. XD He misses being able to make faces at Arthur. Among other things... like eating. Oh, and sleeping. He cannot WAIT to sleep. Lol

jediyam: Lol yus! Dayla for the win! Glad you like her. :)

IndiaMoore: She does that. She's a slippery lil' thing. And BAMF is my favoritest thing ever. And be ready for more Arthur and Merlin BAMFery. Plenty of it in this chapter.

Emrys Is Merlin: Her new nickname is Emrys' lil' helper. :D And thank you! Sorry for the wait!

White Cat: Sorry it took so long to get up. But here 'tis!

CaptainOzone: *squee!* Thanks! I love it when stories use possessive pronouns with Merlin and Arthur. It IS bromantic, isn't it?! 8D And I always figured that Gwen would make a good mother. She's almost a mother to Merlin and Elyan in the show, so I thought it suited her.

1983Sarah: Thank you! I take a lot of pride in my fight scenes and mess with them a lot before I post. Possibly one of the reasons that I spent so long actually writing this one aside from the real life distractions; most of this chapter is fighting and action and stuff. One of the scenes literally took weeks for me to hammer out. I am happy with the final result, even if I am not entirely sure about the writing itself. lol As for the animals, that was a friend's idea. The same friend that has been helping me with the falconry and some of the battles suggested the idea that she would cut them off completely. He's a genuis. XD

Morena Evensong: Yus! Merxcalibur! I love it. And thank you! I'm glad the tension and such is coming through. I adore writing Gwen. She is a strong female character, and I did miss her in season 5. It kind of felt like she wasn't there, because of what Morgana did to her. Though there was also a sense of sadness, because the two of them reminded me a little of the adorable friendship they had in the first two seasons. I missed it.

monkey76: *squee* Original?! YAY! That's my favorite new word. Lol. Thank you so much. The idea of Merlin in the sword was the idea that spawned this story so I am happy it is going over so well.

Ready for some violence?! Here we go!

* * *

A strange and haunting cry echoed among the towers of the castle. Huddled together at the top of the steps, the knights and their queen looked to the sky at the inhuman sound. As it died away, the first enemy rounded the corner of a house and appeared in the archway of the main courtyard. He didn't seem to notice the oil that sloshed about beneath his feet as he charged forward with his sword held high and a cry of battle bursting from his throat. Leon gripped the torch tight when he saw him...

... and then tossed it onto the ground.

Like a ripple cascading across the surface of the water, fire burst from the torch, quickly consuming the courtyard. Guinevere and the knights were forced to take a few steps back as they were blasted with heat. They heard the screams of those who had stepped into the oil before it was lit and sight of the coming army was lost in the blaze that roared between them. The statue of the mounted knight that stood in the center of the stone steps cast a frightening shadow down over the men that crowded around the edge of the flames like wild dogs circling prey. The figure's stature seemed even larger in the bright light and somehow the knights around it were bolstered even further; their loyalty and love for their kingdom swelling powerfully in their breasts.

The knights that had retreated into the citadel at the queen's command began to venture slowly onto the landing and down a few of the broad steps, hands ready to draw swords and eyes squinted at the flames to see the actions of the men on the other side.

The queen herself had been shuffled into the center of the gathering of men, Leon and Elyan at her sides. And they resolved to wait.

But their hearts soon filled with terror as they were not made to wait long.

A powerful wind suddenly swept into existence. It swirled at the center of the courtyard, growing in strength and size until it began consuming the flames around it, along with the oil that fueled the blaze. The wind swirled faster and stronger as the seconds ticked by until Guinevere was certain that she would have been sent flying were it not for the armor-clad knights around her.

The wind roared in her ears, expanding outwards until the entire courtyard was dry and each flame had been doused. But as the wind died, what she saw standing in the center of what had been a powerful storm was not at all what she had expected.

A sword was held up high, the point reaching for the heavens. Two men in chain mail were crouched at the feet of the tall man holding the sword. Three horses, their reigns held loosely by one of the kneeling men, reared and screeched. They quickly pulled free and made a mad dash for the royal stables as they were hit with the smell of home.

The wind finally retreated and Arthur stood with Gwaine and Percival in the center of the courtyard. Gwen had to hold back tears as happiness and relief overwhelmed her.

Arthur's body tipped to one side and then to the other, his brain suddenly having difficulty deciding which way was up and which way was down. He looked around the courtyard until his eyes found the crouched knights behind him. He smirked and and then laughed.

"Less than two days indeed!" he cried.

It took Percival and Gwaine a few minutes to gain their bearings enough to get to their feet. As soon as Gwaine's eyes caught sight of the queen and the knights he grinned and tapped Percival's arm. Arthur, however, quickly caught sight of the throng of Saxons and mercenaries that were still standing- stunned- at the edge of the courtyard. He crouched, and held up his sword.

_"Arthur..._"

The king looked to the gem that rested beside his face. "What is it?"

In lieu of an answer, the magic in Arthur's mind opened and a golden thread appeared at his feet, winding back behind him and toward the citadel. Realization curved his lips into a smile.

"The gem," he whispered.

_"Why would it be here?"_

"I think we have more important things to worry about, Merlin," growled Arthur, his eyes narrowing at the men that appeared to be slowly getting over their shock at the sudden appearance of the king.

_"We don't have time to worry about this!" _cried Merlin. _"I need to get back to normal!"_

Arthur felt Merlin's magic tugging him back toward the citadel, but he stubbornly remained in place. "I'll not let them into my palace!" The magic tugged at him again, and feeling Merlin's magic swelling in his chest, he relented, swearing silently at the warlock. But his frustration quickly vanished when the magic in his body swelled greater and he turned on the steps in front of the archways to face the invading army. Percival and Gwaine also seemed reluctant to abandon their posts, but they quickly followed. At the silent urge from the sword, he shoved the blade down in between two stones. The magic exploded, his eyes burning gold.

_"G__rundwæg __æt __l__yft ástandan!__(1)"_

The earth roared and the stones below their feet began to vibrate and shake. The bandits backed away and with one last blast of power, the ground surged upwards into a tall stone wall that completely blocked off the area leading to the archways of the castle.

_"Satisfied?"_ demanded Merlin.

Arthur had no time to respond (and the smugness that eeked from the blade didn't make him want to). He was nearly thrown off his feet as Guinevere threw her arms around his neck and held tight. Arthur smiled and embraced her, inhaling the scent that was always more amazing the longer he was away. He kissed her hair and placed her on the ground as nearby, Percival and Gwaine locked arms with Leon and Elyan.

Arthur looked to Leon and the knight needed no command. "The city has been completely surrounded, and the lower town is lost. The people from the surrounding villages as well as those from the lower town are in the vaults and citadel," he reported.

"Good. Has anyone seen Morgana?" the king demanded.

Gwen shook her head. "There has been no sign of her, but Dayla said that she felt her enter the barrier."

Arthur pursed his lips in thought.

_"She probably has the gem with her. That where she would believe it is most safe."_

Arthur nodded, but then his heart dropped into his stomach. The golden thread had been leading back into the castle.

Saying nothing, he dashed past the knights and began to fight his way through the crowd of red cloaks toward the center of the citadel. Guinevere and the four knights struggled to keep up and they finally did when Arthur stopped in a clear area were the knights ebbed and gave way to the citizens huddled in the corridors. Several of them looked up and smiled brightly at their king, their absolute faith in him almost completely banishing the despair and terror in their eyes.

The golden thread pointed directly into a wall.

"Merlin!" he cried. "That's not helping!"

_"You think the connection is gonna navigate the halls for you?"_ cried the sword indignantly. Luckily, the people in the hall didn't react to the sourceless voice and Arthur figured he had confined the message only to his head.

"I was hoping," grumbled the king. He jogged down the corridor and turned to the left as soon as he got the chance. The pounding of boots behind him told him the knights were following, but when he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at the sight of his wife among them. He halted and rounded on her. "Guinevere, I need you safe. Go to the vaults," he ordered in a voice that none but two people in the entire kingdom would dare question.

Unfortunately for him, Gwen was one of those two people.

"I belong with Gaius, helping with the injured from the outer walls. I'm not going to hide," she insisted. The look in her eyes told him that even if she bothered to pretend she was following his orders, she would head there herself later.

"Fine... but take the back way. There is less chance you will run into Morgana." The queen nodded, and hurried away.

He grumbled and continued his rush down the hall, his mind running over the possible destinations in the direction that the thread pointed to. He stopped in his tracks as realization came over him. "Merlin!" he cried.

_"What's wrong?"_

"The connection is leading toward the physician's chambers. She knows you're vulnerable. She's going after you, Merlin!" His jog turned into a full-out run, and he could barely hear Leon's call up to him as he moved.

"Merlin's body has been moved, Sire!" he cried, gripping tight the hilt of his sword as he ran. "I had Sir Bedivere move him."

Some relief trickled into his mind, but horror exploded into it again almost immediately as he realized where his queen was headed. "Guinevere," he growled.

They were approaching the spiral staircase that lead to Gaius' chambers when he skidded to a halt.

The scream of a man echoed down the hall. As it died, another rose up to take its place but was almost immediately cut off by a thud and sickening crack.

The golden thread was suddenly strangled and consumed by tendrils of darkness. They crept down the corridors like a mass of snakes, coiling and curling around each other; a miasma of dark magic. Arthur's vision darkened like a room when the curtains were drawn. His lungs were full of it and he coughed roughly.

Merlin's anxiety rose. As Arthur was becoming more accustomed to magic and his sensitivity was beginning to heighten.

The darkness saturated the corridor, seeping into the stones and imbedding itself in the mortar. Arthur stopped his mad dash, and he heard his knights unsheathe their blades as they sensed the king's discomfort. The torches dimmed, as though the flames themselves were attempting to flee the dark magic that hung in the air like a thick fog.

Merlin's emotions twirled like a tempest. A mixture of fear- not for himself, but for the one holding the blade and those tensed and ready behind him- anger, guilt, pity, and pain completely consumed the section of his mind that he and Merlin shared. He had no time to contemplate the implications of any of them for around the corner swept the source of that magic that threatened to overwhelm and choke him.

She stood tall and proud, beautiful and terrible at the same time. Her skin was the pale color of the stones that surrounded them, and her face had lost none of the loveliness that she had possessed when she served as the king's beloved ward; high graceful cheekbones, full perfect lips- curled into a grin that was equal parts sinister and confidence- and dark sultry eyes that any man would be hard-pressed not to fall into.

The tattered black dress she was wrapped in bore a low neckline and nestled between the top of her breasts was a pendant; an oval red gem that sparkled unnaturally in the nearly-absent light.

"Arthur," she cooed in a voice that most would consider friendly and loving. "It's good to finally see you."

Merlin's spirit tensed in the sword, but Arthur pushed it aside. "I wish I could say the same."

"You have quite a talent for misreading people," she said, looking down at her long and perfect fingernails. She did not move her head, but looked up at him from under her delicate brow. "A servant...? It's an impressive amount of deception."

Guilt poured from the sword, and Arthur could tell it stemmed from far more than her comment.

"Considering the stone is still active, it seems you let him live," she continued, brushing her fingers fondly across the surface of the gem. The smile vanished. "There truly is no end to your hypocrisy."

Arthur did not answer. He almost felt like he couldn't. He was now harboring a sorcerer, keeping Merlin's secret. But the hypocrisy of his actions diminished none of his determination:

He would protect his manservant.

"You won't find Merlin's body in Gaius' chambers," he cried suddenly.

Morgana simply smiled again. "I am well-aware of that." She stroked the gem again. "You followed a connection between your half of the gem to my sorcerers it seems. Did you think that connection only went one-way?"

Arthur's heart fluttered in his chest. Could she truly follow the connection to Merlin's body?

Something flashed across her dark eyes. "He deserves to die for all that he has done to me. Not even you would pardon such transgressions."

A strange burst of raw fury hit Arthur's mind so suddenly he almost physically staggered. _"You invade an entire city, willing to slaughter thousands!"_ For the first time, Morgana's mask of superiority and control cracked, and she looked around for the source of Merlin's voice. Arthur held the blade up in front of his torso, the gem turned toward the witch. _"All for the sake of revenge for slights inflicted by only myself and a dead man, saying nothing about the pain you have inflicted on this city." _She stared at the gem as though she hadn't heard anything that Merlin had said. After a long moment, the look of control and confidence returned as understanding flashed across her eyes.

"Is that you, Emrys?" she asked quietly, using the name to banish any familiarity she once held for him.

_"I am the _only_ person in this city that you have reason to hate!"_ The guilt returned, and Arthur glanced to the gem. _"Not even Arthur has wronged you!"_

She giggled a little, continuing to ignore him. "How fortunate." She slowly raised her hands to her side and, had he one at the moment, Merlin's heart would have nearly stopped.

The magic that coiled so easily to her hand was nothing short of frightening. Perhaps he simply noticed it now because of his raw state, but he had never imagined her to be this powerful. But there was something familiar about the movement of magic; behaving as though she pulled it from the very earth where no dark magic originated.

Arthur flinched. He could suddenly feel the earth crying out, wailing for help as its magic was ripped from it and bent into the dark.

"The connection between the gems is far deeper than a simple ability to find one another," she said. As the magic gathered, Arthur could feel Merlin's magic flood from the gem and wrap its protective arms around him and the knights that stood still behind him. "Emrys' power has freed mine in ways I never thought possible." Her eyes widened and her lips twisted into a manic smile. "It will be a pleasure to destroy you with your own magic."

Arthur's body tensed and Merlin's magic began to move through him. It filled his entire body; from the crown of his head to every finger and toe, intertwining with his muscles until it was difficult to distinguish between sinew and power. Though the magic filled his body, Arthur felt no loss of control; it coiled with every tense, and swelled with every breath.

"Get to Gaius' chambers and keep Guinevere safe," he growled at his knights, sounding far more angered than he truly was. The knights began to protest, but when he rounded on them and glared with bright glowing eyes, they scurried to obey.

At his momentary distraction, Morgana threw both hands out, and a blast of magic roared toward him. Arthur held the sword before his chest again, and the wave broke against the barrier that appeared in front of him.

_Gelíce ætíegstrém nædre flód!__(2)"_

As though pouring from within her sleeves, snake after snake dropped to the ground at her feet and slithered toward the king, hissing and rattling madly. Arthur held one hand toward the ground, and raised the sword with the other. A blast of Merlin's magic crushed the snakes into dust and he swung the sword in a wide arch, fire exploding from the blade and shooting toward Morgana.

The witch held her hand up, and the flames dove into her palms, vanishing for a moment. She moved her hand in a small circle and an orb of fire materialized, growing as wide as the corridor they stood in within a few seconds. It rumbled toward them, the heat forcing Arthur a few steps back far before it got near him. He raised his sword again and sliced a clean vertical line through its middle. The two halves dissipated instantly.

"You are ill-suited to magic, Brother!" she screeched, heaving her arms in an arch in front of her. A mass of stone erupted from the wallat her side and as she threw one arm forward it flew down the corridor at the king.

Arthur grunted and had to resist taking a step back. A nudge from the magic in his body made him draw back an arm and when he thrust it forward, magic exploded from his fingertips with a loud bang. The center of the mass tore itself away from the rest of it, creating an opening large enough for the king to duck through as the stone rumbled past him. He stood and saw Morgana's mask of confidence crack again. It was clear she hadn't expected such a skillful display of magic from the king.

Behind her the stone and mortar of the wall groaned, but she stood still as a statue as it gave way to the left of her slender form. Stone from the above floors tumbled into the hallway, far more than the king could see, kicking dust into the air and obscuring his view of his opponent slightly.

"You have no right to use Emrys' magic," she growled. The fog of mortar that had consumed the end of the hall seemed to shiver at her words, as though the air itself feared her anger. There was no attempt to force him to back down with words, but simply a bubbling rage that seemed to be rising to the surface. "Your hands stain it with the blood of its people!"

_"Your magic is twisted!"_ shouted Merlin. The explosion of fury consumed the warlock's portion of the king's mind again. _"Can you not hear the earth crying out at you? It cries in pain because you and other worshipers of dark magic have so perverted it! _You_ are the one that does not have the right to use magic!"_ There was a righteous anger and offense that Arthur sympathized with and a shiver ran down his spine. Like Morgana's magic had done earlier, both king and witch began to feel Merlin's magic fill the corridor. It bubbled away from the gem, and Arthur watched as it began to oppress Morgana's cloud of darkness. _"_Least _of all, mine."_

~ooOoo~

Gwen stood up from where she had knelt to help a woman bandage a cut on her son's leg. She placed a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder and smiled. She hurried down the hallway, doing her best to smile at the many hopeful and loving faces that turned toward her as she moved. Even with her rule as queen only starting, the love that the people held for Arthur had quickly spread to her by proxy. It both warmed her heart and placed a pressure on her shoulders. She had always loved the people of Camelot, but the amount of love they were now returning was new and strange. She now had a responsibility to keep their lives as safe and happy as she could manage.

She received a slight reprieve as she entered a deserted hallway. She had not taken two steps when something fluttered in her peripheral vision. She looked up to see none other than Frio disappearing around a corner. She hiked up her skirts and dashed down the corridor.

"Frio?!" she called.

Rather than the bird, the head that peeked out at her belonged to Dayla. She smiled cautiously at the queen and stepped fully into the corridor, Frio on her heels. Guinevere couldn't deny that she was happy to see the girl unharmed, but something in her bubbled with anger and fear.

"Dayla!" she cried, in a very similar voice to the one her mother used to use when scolding her. "You are meant to be with Sir Bedivere! What are you doing here?!"

She glanced up at her guiltily and sighed, looking down at Frio. "I'm sorry, My Lady. I was heading back to him, but I got lost," she said, reverting back to her title. "I have to do my job."

Gwen knelt before her and placed a hand on her head. "You've done your job, Dayla. You held off the army long enough for Arthur and Merlin to return. Now it is time for us to do ours."

Dayla shook her head, but before she could say anything, the ground beneath their feet began to shake violently. A growling sound erupted behind them down another corridor, and the stones from the wall began to collapse as Morgana's spell pulled out the ones beneath them. Stones and mortar spilled into the hallway, and before she could move, Gwen saw green fabric dash right into the path of the collapsing stones.

"Dayla!" screamed Guinevere. The rocks settled, and dust hung heavily in the air. The floor beneath them remained somehow intact, but the ceiling of the corridor had begun to cave in, filling it completely with stone and mortar.

Frio scuttled back and forth in front of the blockage, screeching and flapping her wings. A few times, she hopped onto a nearby stone and took a moment to look entirely baffled.

Gwen's hands flew to her mouth and she looked to the bird. Her stomach twisted and rolled and all she could do was hope the child had made it through to the other side, though she was at a loss to explain why Dayla had done such a thing.

She looked down at the bird who had begun to scratch at the floor and peck at the pebbles that had gathered at the base of the pile, cooing pathetically. Gwen couldn't help but smile at the poor creature. She looked around and then crouched down next to Frio. "I'm sure she's fine," she said, running her hand down the bird's back. Frio seemed comforted a little by the touch, but then perked up as though someone had called her name. With a flinch from Gwen, she took off from the stone pile and zoomed down the hallway, screeching and turning a corner.

Gwen sighed. The bird could take care of herself for now, and the infirmary was hardly the place for such an animal. She turned and hurried back down the hallway toward Gaius' chambers.

~ooOoo~

"_Hlaep on bæc!"_

Arthur pressed himself against one wall as a blast of magic flew past him down the corridor. He coughed as the dust from the collapse behind Morgana choked him. He pushed himself back into the middle and aimed the point of his sword at her. His own blast of magic flew at her, and he ran at her behind it. She held up a hand and the blast dissipated. Arthur leapt at her, but rather than move or pull her own weapon, she merely held out her hand.

The blade slammed into her flesh, but no blood was lost. The weapon pressed against her skin, but did not break it. She seemed to require no effort to hold the prince's attack off. She grinned at his perplexed expression.

"No blade can harm me, now," she cooed. She pressed her free hand against his chest, and Arthur could feel magic gather there.

In an instant, there was an explosion as warlock and witch's magics plowed into each other. Morgana's back hit the wall and she yelped. Arthur flew back down the corridor, landing with a loud _clank_ as armor and chain mail sparked against stone.

There was a grinding roar as the stone above them spilled into the hallway in the gap between the priestess and king, the floor above yielding under the pressure of magic. Luckily for the combatants, the walls remained intact, littering the corridor with stone rather than engulfing it. Arthur winced as a small bit of rock bounced off of his leg but paid it little mind and focused on getting to his feet. His armor weighed heavily on him and he had to use Excalibur as a crutch to right himself. His lungs burned with dust, mortar, and magic, and his eyes could barely make out the slender form of his sister on the other side of the corridor.

Finding his balance again, Arthur held his sword in front of him and sighed. This almost seemed an exercise in futility. The witch barely seemed winded (though he couldn't clearly make her out) and he was now struggling to stand. However...

… as long as she was fighting him, she wasn't killing his citizens.

Magic gathered like a growing bonfire to the end of the hall and Arthur felt Merlin's magic tense like a coil of butterflies in his stomach.

"_Gástléas sceala: níwfyllan!(3)"_

Arthur braced himself, locking his arms in place and gripping Excalibur's hilt tight. No blast came. Among the groaning stone and rustle of dust and mortar, the sound of chain mail and armor shifting echoed from Morgana's end of the hall and Arthur's insides twisted.

"Stay away from the witch!" he shouted to the guards that were clearly hurrying to his aide. "Guard the citizens first!"

There were no protests or calls of assurance. There were merely the heavy footfalls of armored knights, though they walked with no sense of urgency. The steps were even and purposeful, like a trained march that should be completely absent in such a time of siege.

Sinister magic slowly invaded his senses from far down the hall to Morgana's right and from the rooms set behind the spiral staircase at her back. A strange and familiar groan hit Arthur's ears; one Merlin recognized from the rusty hinges of the door to a small armory near the staircase. The dust in the air quivered again at a strange giggle from the priestess.

"Aww, I don't think they're listening," she cooed.

Two tall shadows loomed behind Morgana and two more lumbered over from the adjacent hallway. As the dust began to settle, Arthur's heart dropped into his stomach.

Four suits of armor- complete with jousting helms and empty as he could easily see through the chain mail around their non-existent torsos- marched toward him. They were animated through nothing but the serpentine coils of dark magic that clouded around the priestess. Standing shoulder to shoulder, two of the suits filled the corridor with the other two standing behind them holding spears across their chests with gloved non-hands. The two in front held swords toward the king, their freshly-sharpened points aimed at him.

"You'd be surprised how much you can do when a little freedom is afforded your magic," continued Morgana.

Arthur gritted his teeth and clicked his tongue, staring at the jerkily-approaching suits. He certainly hoped that their skill with a sword wasn't equal to Morgana's. He was her better with a blade, certainly; though he didn't fancy fighting four of her.

However, when he took a step toward them, his body tensed and his sword raised for combat, he could feel the magic intertwined with his muscles hesitate, as though he had suddenly stepped out of a cloud of power. He looked to the gem briefly before glancing ahead and growling at his lifeless opponents.

"Merlin, what's wrong?" he demanded.

There was no vocal response, but Arthur's senses were suddenly opened. The visual plane melted slightly from his mind and instead of four empty suits of armor, he saw the four masses of dark magic which powered them. Beyond the suits was the heavy fog of magic that surrounded his sister, spilling down the hallways, slithering around the staircase at her back, and licking the stones beneath her feet. What he didn't expect was another small source of magic far to the left of the witch, glowing and pulsing near the pile of stones that collapsed from the floors above. It felt strangely familiar, though Arthur couldn't place it.

"_Dayla!"_ cried the sword.

"What?" demanded the king. He looked back to the small ball of energy that vanished behind the stone of the wall beside him as his eyes overtook his sense of sight again. "What is she doing here?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

There was no response to be had. Magic swelled in his chest and bubbled around him, seeping into the stone beneath his feet and at his sides. He felt his eyes burn and Merlin grabbed hold of his voice.

"_Cuman carr æt andflystan mín! Ðá gást__léas__ ástyntan!__(4)"_

Magic leaked into the floor and walls, creating a loud shifting like thousands of boots upon gravel. He could feel Morgana's power tense in response. He looked back to the empty creatures before him, who had stopped in their tracks. The two in front twitched slightly, their arms lunging forward just a little in effort to continue walking, but something invisible had stopped them.

Arthur took the opportunity and dove for the small opening between two of the suits, though he had to bring his sword up to block as the one on his left took a swing at him. The empty gloves were powerful and Arthur's arms shook with the effort to hold off the strike. His legs wobbled and threatened to collapse under the stress and out of the corner of his eye he saw the suit on his right turn its attention from its trapped feet to the king. He saw the torso turn with the effort to raise its sword to strike, but the blow never came, and Arthur found that he had never been fearful it would.

He looked back to the suit in front of him to see a thin ribbon of gray stone wind around the wrist of the glove. The ribbon pulled back, relieving the strain on Arthur's arms until he was free to stand and walk past the suits of armor. From the walls and floor flew thin strings of stone like hundreds of fingers reaching out and curling around the magical limbs of his opponents and dragging them away from the center of the corridor. As the gloves touched the walls they sunk in, their hands vanishing to the wrists into the stone and locking there. As Arthur walked past, he couldn't help but notice the rock slowly crawling up the gloves and overtaking the plated arms; gradually creating statues connected to the walls.

When Arthur's eyes finally met those of Morgana once again, (hers seemed to be filling with annoyance) a small voice echoed in the hall.

"_Cuman!(5)"_

There was a strange movement that followed the cry. Morgana suddenly tipped to the side as though someone had taken a handful of her hair and yanked. It only lasted a moment, and the witch quickly righted herself and the annoyance vanished from her eyes to be replaced by the haughtiness that Arthur had come to know and loathe.

She adjusted the chain around her neck and looked down the hall to her left. "I'm sorry, Child, but it will not be quite that simple." Her smile vanished and Arthur shot the rest of the way down the hall and careened around the corner, just barely missing barreling Morgana over in the process.

As Merlin had said, the small druid girl stood (looking rather wobbly) before a mass of stone that consumed the corridor behind her. Her hand remained outstretched and she gave the king a strange sheepish smile.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur demanded, surprising himself with the amount of anger in the cry. He took a position between the girl and Morgana as Dayla fiddled with something in her pocket.

"I have to do my job," the child mumbled. Arthur almost didn't catch it.

"_You've done your job!"_ cried Merlin, his magic swelling again and filling the corridor as though to create some form of barrier between the druid at the witch. _"You should be in the vaults or somewhere safe!"_

Morgana adjusted the gem on her chest again. "She's quite brave, the little one," she muttered thoughtfully. "Though her magic is ill-suited to offense." She twirled her finger into the silver chain from which hung the Emrys stone. "Even if it wasn't, a magical chain is not easily broken."

Arthur winced as a familiar screech blasted his ears. A mass of beige feathers plowed into the side of Morgana's head and the witch's face vanished behind a frenzy of wings and talons for a second. With a cry, a black-clad arm arched around and slammed into the bird's side, sending her careening down the hallway to land at Arthur's feet.

The king dared not remove his eyes from Morgana, but Dayla rushed to Frio's side as the bird flipped back onto her feet and spread her wings menacingly. Dayla's attempts to get the bird to take refuge behind Arthur were ignored.

The annoyance returned to Morgana's dark eyes. "I don't have time for this," she growled, and magic pooled around her. "I have a warlock to kill."

It was a strange sensation; reading magic. There was something suddenly familiar about the way it moved and the way it collected, as though it were singing to whomever had the ability to listen. But while Nature's magic was melodious and beautiful, Morgana's twisted dark magic was raucous and horrid.

It screamed to him and Arthur knew what was to happen a moment before it did. His body moved on instinct and he dropped to his knees, draping his armored torso over the small girl and the bird, gripping the sword tight and hoping Merlin had a spell ready for this. He felt the magic in his chest surge, but die away quickly and he braced himself as the pile of stone behind him exploded and two floors-worth of rocks came crashing down on top of them.

* * *

1: "Ground rise to the sky!"

2: "Snakes flow like a river!"

3: "Spiritless husks: be completely filled!"

4: "Stone come to my aid! Restrain those without life!"

5: "Come!"

SORRY!

Oh wait... that's right. Not sorry. Hey! Like I said, it's the big finale! There can't NOT be cliffies! Hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly as long. x.x Hope you enjoyed! Review and tell me what you think!


	20. His Stand

Again... waaaaaaay too long in between posts. Like some of the other chapters, I hit a wall toward the end of this one. It sat unedited for a few weeks because I just couldn't get my brain to WRITE it. But, it has been overcome and we can now continue!

**Review Responses**

MegamiTenshiHime: I'll let you in on a secret... *whispers* He didn't do it.

Aurora-dawn89: Who me? Nevah!

Emrys Is Merlin: Thanks. :) Honestly, it is great to have the whole thing behind me. And thank you!

Felicity P: Thank you so much!

IndiaMoore: Hmmm... Maybe Aurora is right... I guess I am evil. But what fanfiction writer isn't at least a little evil?

Nebriniel Peredhil: Awesome! Thanks! I agonized over the fight scenes in that chapter and this one, so it is great to know that it shows!

1983Sarah: Update in your inbox! Lol I just got an image of you walking out to your mailbox an opening it only to find me crammed in there going, "I WROTE MOAR"

Guest: Quite. XD

Aerist: I love seeing people from Heart of Camelot on here! *hugs* Like I said in the message, I have been wondering when someone was going to bring up the erstwhile dragon. He has actually been called already. Here's the excerpt where Dayla blew the horn:  
"A strange and haunting cry echoed among the towers of the castle. Huddled together at the top of the steps, the knights and their queen looked to the sky at the inhuman sound."  
I'm sneaky like that. As for why no one has seen him... you will have to wait and find out. But you aren't the only one that has noticed the general lack of dragon.

Geckoshan: Yep... like Aurora and I said... evil. Or wicked since I am a Broadway fan. Lol

Booklover0608: Working on it. XD

amertka: I sorry it took so long. Hopefully you enjoy!

* * *

Inhaling a lungful of dust and mortar, Arthur decided, was a worse way to wake up than most anything- aside from with one's forearms shackled to a wall, of course.

But he did wake up.

The stone he had been almost certain would crush him, or at least break something (be it a limb or even his head) had left him unharmed. In fact, there seemed to be stone piled around him in every direction, but he, Dayla, and Frio sat in a small circle devoid of anything but dust.

Dayla coughed roughly and pulled her dust-laden cloak from around her shoulders. She patted it a few times before giving it up as far too saturated and laying it to the side. Frio clucked unhappily and shook her large body, sending a fresh wave of mortar into the air and drawing more coughs from the two humans.

Arthur opened his mouth to inquire what exactly had saved them from the falling stones, but his eyes caught sight of the empty hall in front of him and he leaped to his feet. He opened his senses. The golden thread shot down the hall, and thankfully not up the stairs toward Gaius' chambers. His sense of urgency to follow the retreating witch deflated a little when shuffling at his feet drew his attention down to the child brushing dust out of her hair.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her upright, possibly more roughly than he should have. "What are you doing here?" he demanded in a voice that reminded him strangely of his father. "You shouldn't be anywhere near Morgana!"

The defiant glare in her eyes took him aback. "It's my fault she got in!" she cried back. "I have to help!"

"_You can help by calling Kilgharrah,"_ urged Merlin as Arthur stood straight again.

She pulled on the silver chain that hung across her chest to show the king the _Héafodwóð_. "I did. I called him after the queen sent Emrys and I away to hide, but I haven't seen or heard him."

Arthur felt the coiled magic in his body relax a little as though the arms wrapped around him were now stretching away to search the air above them.

"_No... he isn't here," _Merlin conceded.

"What do we do?" asked Dayla, looking down at Frio. The bird shook a little again.

Arthur shook his head and his grip on Excalibur tightened. "Keeping this idiot alive is more pressing right now," said the king. He looked down at Dayla. "Try blowing it again and then _hide_," he commanded, emphasizing the last word.

He didn't wait for an answer and began throwing himself over the rocks to get to the empty hallway, only sparing a quick glance down the hall where the fight had started and raising an eyebrow at the pieces of armor that were now composed completely of stone and had become part of the walls. The imagery was mildly disturbing; it appeared as though the walls had begun to devour four fully-armored knights.

The golden thread lead them back toward the heart of the castle and down a few stairways before they encountered the first body. A guard lay in a strange position with his head hanging at an odd angle. Arthur growled under his breath at the sight and pushed his legs faster.

He dove into the bowels of the castle, and in each hallway there was at least one slain guard; a pair of knights in one. His heart raced and his fists clenched tighter with each body he passed, but as he rounded the corner that lead down into the caves that lay beneath the palace, he saw something that made his heart nearly stop.

Three bodies were slumped against the wall among a few sacks of belongings. A strapping man no older than Arthur's father would have been lay with a protective arm around the shoulders of a woman of about the same age. On the ground in front of them lay a man Arthur's age, his eyes wide open but glossed in death. Not a blemish or scratch lay on the bodies and all three mouths were open in terror.

Arthur's blood boiled so loudly in his ears that he barely heard the threat from the five figures that approached him from the iron doors of Kilgharrah's former prison. In an instant, four Saxons had surrounded him, swords gleaming in the torchlight and he could feel magic welling several yards behind them where stood a single cloaked druid.

He looked up at the robed man some distance away and he could feel the four Saxon's shiver and back down ever-so-slightly. Magic swelled in his body, spilling into the hall around him and saturating the floors and ceiling. He gripped Excalibur tight and he could feel magic pouring from the gem like a waterfall, bubbling, tossing, and turning like a boiling pot of water.

Magic erupted from the druid and a wall of power rumbled down the hallway. Arthur needed no words. His arms tensed and with a cry of rage he launched the sword at the druid. The sword flew like an arrow loosed from an archer's bow. The blade slid easily through the wall of magic, a small burst of wind erupting from the tip and the wall instantly dispersed. The sword continued its flight until the blade found the druid's heart and felled him with the power of a battering ram.

Arthur kept his hand outstretched and the instant the blood began to pool beneath the slain druid, the sword pulled itself free from the body and shot back to its owner, the hilt sliding easily into his hand. The stunned Saxons didn't have time to gather their wits before a blast of magic slammed them against the walls and floor hard enough that a few sickening cracks echoed down the corridor.

Arthur spent no time admiring his handiwork. He charged down the steps that lead to the dragon's caves.

~ooOoo~

There were explosions and cries of the dying. There was magic shaking loose dust from the masonry above. There was a battle going on above his head and Sir Bedivere was bound by his vow to crouch in the dragon's cavern. He flipped his sword over in his hands and stood to stretch his legs.

He froze.

Not ten feet up the path leading to the castle stood Morgana.

His grip on his sword tightened. The witch smiled at him; a curve of the lips which could almost be considered friendly if not for the wickedness in her eyes.

"Another brave knight of Camelot," she muttered, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. "There's no end to you, is there?"

Bedivere did his best to calm the shivering in his hands and the trembling of his legs. "There will never be an end..." he began, and Morgana relished his near inability to finish his sentence. He swallowed and continued. "... to the good men in this city who will rise to stop people like you."

"Noble blah blah..." yawned Morgana, waving a blithe hand at him. "People like me, you say?" Her smile vanished. "You know nothing." Her eyes flashed and Bedivere tensed violently, but no blow came. She merely rolled her eyes as the gold faded and glared at him. "I have not the time nor the patience to search for Emrys' body," she said after a pause, a perusal of the room, and a quick glance over her shoulder at the entrance to the caverns. "You will tell me where it is."

A mild look of bafflement overtook Bedivere's face at the sound of the name, but he quickly adjusted his stance. "You will get nothing from me," he growled.

Morgana stared him down for a long moment, her black eyes boring into Bedivere's. She looked him over hungrily, eyeing the way his elbows shook with the effort to keep his hands still and relishing the way his cape shivered with the trembling of his body. "Will I not?" she mused quietly.

As she held out her hand, Bedivere tensed again, and this time something followed: pain. It was as though her extended fingers had embedded themselves in his gut, took hold of his organs, and began to twist. He was on one knee in seconds, one foot remaining stubbornly on the floor and his fist trembling violently around the hilt of his sword. The agony twisted and roiled in his middle, to the point that he briefly wondered if it would be worth it to simply fall on his sword, if only to bring it to an end. But he gritted his teeth and held his breath, staring defiantly up at her. She didn't seem bothered by his look, though. A fleeting glimpse of twisted delight danced across her eyes and she relaxed her hand.

The pain was gone as soon as it had come, and Bedivere's stubborn foot now gave out in relief. Rivulets of sweat trickled down his jaw and dripped from his nose as he stared at the floor. His mind seared empty with agony, it took a moment of collecting himself to recall where he was and who was standing before him. When he did, he scrambled to his feet and attempted to shake his brain back into function. He held his sword out and glared.

"Oh, that was unpleasant," cooed Morgana, her tone dripping with false concern. "I'd hate to see you have to go through that again."

Even in his hazy mind, Bedivere interpreted the threat and his gaze steeled even further. "You will get nothing from me!" he cried again, his voice hitching in his throat.

Morgana's false concern vanished and she sighed. "I should carry a Nathair around with me," she lamented. "Though I suppose this has its own charm." She smiled and her hand jutted out again.

The agony was back and Bedivere was on the ground again. This time he couldn't stop the scream that tore from his throat and bounced off of the walls of the massive cavern. After what felt like an eternity (though probably wasn't more than a few moments), another sound registered in the back of Bedivere's mind and the agony relented once more. His body shook in the wake of the pain, but he managed to coerce his fingers into once again curling around the hilt of his sword. Slowly he raised his head to look at his assailant, and what he saw filled his body with renewed strength.

Arthur stood several yards away from the cavern entrance, Excalibur held aloft and his blue eyes shifting anxiously between Morgana and the wounded knight. Bedivere forced himself to his feet and sent his king a pained smile.

"You made quick work of the Saxons, I see," she sighed, fiddling with the stone at her chest again. "Quicker than I expected." She flipped her hand blithely. "Not that it matters, but the little Viliane tribe has proven to be a thorn in my side worthy of Emrys himself," she chuckled, glancing down at the golden setting that held the Emrys stone against Excalibur's hilt..

"Enough, Morgana!" shouted Arthur, aiming the tip of his sword at the witch's heart. "If you truly know of Emrys' power, then you should know it is pointless for you to continue." There was a strange surge of pride from the sword and Arthur could feel Merlin smiling at the recognition. What a strange servant he had: the man's ego did not swell at the king's declaration. Instead, humble appreciation filled the warlock's corner of his mind, as though nothing in this life was worth more than the king's praise.

"Pointless?" laughed Morgana, as though she couldn't believe the king had suggested such a thing. "You speak as though you have the ability to fight me, much less my army, off," she said, flipping a hand at Excalibur. There was a strange change that came over her eyes, accompanying the bizarre smile that curved her lips. "And even if you did..." she motioned to the stone ceiling above them, "No matter what happens above us, I have won today. Camelot is rotten to its core."

She stood up straight and a strange passion entered her eyes; a passion that Arthur easily recognized as that of a person driven by their own sense of justice. It was a look that consumed the eyes of many sorcerers that he had met over the years.

"I will purge this rotten city and bring about the return of magic. Until now, I had always thought that I was alone in this endeavor. But as it turns out, Brother, just as you have your little traitorous warlock, I have the tribe of Wylt and items with power enough to make the great Emrys cower in your citadel," she cried, motioning at the stone walls around them. The passion in her eyes suddenly warped and twisted, and a matching manic grin overcame her mouth. "What has been started today will spell the end of your city, Arthur. So you see, you can kill every Saxon and mercenary in the city and it will do you little-!"

Her voice caught in her throat and she gasped as her body went rigid.

"And if we kill _you_?" demanded Bedivere, shoving his blade just a bit deeper into the witch's side.

Morgana doubled over, one arm flinging in a frantic arch. Bedivere was launched from his feet and into a nearby wall, a _crack_ echoing as his body slammed into stone. He fell to the floor and lay still.

"Bedivere!" shouted Arthur, rage exploding in his mind as he watched his knight fall. By the time his eyes moved back to the witch, she had straightened and was eyeing the tear in her dress like it concerned her more than the hole in her flesh.

After a moment, she scoffed at the knight's limp form. "I am destined for far too much to be killed here," she growled.

Magic burst into Arthur's chest._"Méce líhtung; ýtan þosm!(1)"_ he shouted.

Arthur needed no prompting from Merlin or his magic for the king's body to succumb to his newfound instincts. He swung his sword in a horizontal line. A blade of light exploded from the steel and flew toward the witch's middle. Morgana's eyes shot up at Arthur's cry. She punched an open palm toward the attack, and a burst of magic split the blade, dispersing it into the air at her sides.

"I'll admit you are more skilled than I expected with your ill-gotten magic, Brother," she spat and Arthur could feel magic coiling around her. Merlin's magic flared in response and the cavern was filled to the brim with power like a heavy fog. "But not nearly skilled enough." Her eyes shot to the ground beneath the king's feet. _"Cyning áetan!(2)"_

The sound of cracking stone split the air and the caverns themselves seemed to groan at the mutilation. The ground yawned open beneath Arthur's feet and suddenly he was falling into the earth.

With a flash of her eyes, the stone snapped shut like a mouth devouring a meal and she smiled, feeling Merlin's magic tossing and turning angrily beneath the surface. She spun and allowed the golden thread to appear in her mind again. Before she could take a step, a screech halted her. The sound was swiftly followed by a large weight plowing into her head, and talons once again assaulted her scalp.

Frio flapped frantically as she aimed her beak again and again at the witch, her talons gripping hair and flesh as much as she could. Morgana screamed in rage and flailed her arms at the bird.

"Cursed beast!" she screeched. As her arms continued to fail in capturing the buzzard, a burst of power exploded from her entire body. _"Ábréotan feðrberend!(3)"_

Frio cried out in agony as her body was propelled away from the witch. She hit the cavern wall and lie still.

Morgana wiped blood from her cheek as a stream of red dripped from a deep gash in her temple. "Good riddance, vermin," she spat.

"Frio!"

Morgana turned at the cry. Crouched behind a small grouping of rock was the small magical child from before. The rage drained from her eyes. "You survived the rockfall as well, did you?" she asked softly. A gentle smile suddenly overcame her lips and she let out a small breath. "I'm glad. I wish no harm upon those who have magic." She craned her neck a little to catch sight of the druid mark on the girl's shoulder. "Even those from the Viliane tribe. We must all work together toward freedom."

"You-!" Dayla's voice failed her and she fought to control the trembling that overcame her at Morgana's voice. "You fight for yourself!" she squeaked, staring defiantly up at the witch.

A strange pity entered Morgana's eyes. "You misunderstand, little one," she cooed, placing her hands on her knees to look at the girl's eye-level. Dayla stumbled backwards onto her butt at the movement. "I fight for us all... all those who have been persecuted because of magic. I know for a fact that the Viliane tribe was not untouched by Uther's purge."

Dayla remained where she was for a long moment, her fingers trembling against the stone beneath her and fear clutching at her lungs. Though tears gathered at their edges, something crept into her eyes that began to outweigh the terror. "Uther didn't kill my mom and dad!" she cried, her voice stronger than before. _"Cuman!"_

Once again, the Emrys stone yanked away from Morgana's neck, as though attempting to free itself, but the magical chain held and it did little more than pull the witch forward half a step. The gentleness vanished from Morgana's eyes and her graceful brows knitted together. "You would do well not to make an enemy of me, Child," she growled. She extended her hand toward the druid and the tears began to stream down Dayla's cheeks, a small whimper escaping her throat.

The earth between the druid and the witch exploded upward and Arthur flew out of the very stone beneath their feet. The king's feet found the ground and he held the point of Excalibur to Morgana's heart.

"_You underestimate me beyond forgiveness, Morgana,"_ sneered Merlin.

"I thought I told you to hide," grumbled Arthur at the child behind him.

Dayla scrubbed at the tears on her face and smiled weakly. "Frio didn't want to," she said.

A burst of magic slammed into Arthur's head. He could feel it grip his chin and attempt to snap his neck to the side, but the magic within him held his spine intact and he glowered at Morgana. "After all that has happened, I didn't think you would want it to be that easy or quick."

Morgana flipped a hand. "I truly don't. I would prefer you watch the life drain from Emrys' eyes before you die."

"_Áhredding..."_

"But my mission here is more important than my desire for revenge," said the witch, the fervor entering her eyes again. "Every day, my kind is hunted and killed for the crime of simply existing."

"_Líesan þín handhaef."_

"The laws that my father imposed have been lifted, Morgana! Sorcery is still illegal, but no longer are people put on trial simply because they have magic!" argued Arthur, motioning with his free hand.

Morgana took a step forward and her magic surged around her. Arthur's senses were momentarily overwhelmed and he took a half step back at her outburst. "Are you truly foolish enough to believe that the persecution of magic happens only within the walls of this rotten city?!" she screeched.

"_Áhredding..."_

"The thoughts and ways of Uther have infected this land like a disease and simply dismantling the pyres will not be enough to save us! Even into the surrounding kingdoms, the prejudice against my kind continues. A fear has been placed into the people of the land that will not be lifted until the crest of the Pendragons has been torn from every hall, town, and household!"

"_Líesan þín handhaef æt mé!(4)"_

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but nearly stumbled as his mind went silent. Magic was torn from his chest and he felt like he had been struck in the gut. He nearly dropped Excalibur, and when he regained his grip on it, his heart near stopped.

The Emrys stone was gone. The á_hredding_ sat empty against the hilt of his sword.

He looked up to Morgana, who grinned like one of the barn cats cornering a fat rat.

"_Cuman!"_

Once more, Morgana jerked slightly to the side as her half of the Emrys stone jerked away from her. This time however, the chain snapped open and the gem soared away.

Dayla stood several feet behind the witch, holding the two halves of the stone and pulling the magical chain away from one of them. The broken links dropped to the floor...

… bearing the ragged marks of a bird's beak.

"Little wretch!" screeched Morgana, surging toward the child. Dayla spun on her heel and vanished around the corner and deeper into the caverns.

"Morgana!"

The witch spun around just in time to halt a swing from the king. She held out her hand, catching the sword as she had done before, but Arthur could see blood begun to ooze from beneath the blade's sharp edge.

"Not as powerful without your stolen magic, are you?" asked Arthur in a growl. With a grunt, he pushed the sword through the swing, sending Morgana flying into the wall of the cave. She quickly righted herself and glowered at him, her beautiful face twisted into an expression of rage.

"Nor are you."

Her eyes had not the chance to glow, nor had her magic a chance to collect. For the earth beneath their feet rumbled and cried out with a silent explosion that Arthur felt in the very core of his being.

It was as though a ripple was sent through the air; like a water skin had burst and liquid shot in all directions. Arthur doubted that a single inch of Camelot was not touched by the magic that now swirled around him as though he had leapt into the sea. In front of him, Morgana stumbled and though Merlin's senses had left him, Arthur could almost feel her magic writhing in the power that engulfed them.

All of nature celebrated the return of its master.

* * *

1: "Blade of light/illumination; banish darkness!"

2: "Devour the king!"

3: "Kill the feathered creature!"

4: "_Áhredding..._ release your burden to me!"

Alright! Hopefully the wait won't be too long next time! See you soon!


	21. His Return

I have not forgotten you all! Lol. My life has been changing a lot in the past few months and it seems that one update every two months is all I can manage, lol. Things are kiiiiiinda settling, but I don't want to say anything too concrete.

Anyway, I was able to knock this chapter out on a vacation, actually, with some help from my sister. She has actually done some awesome fanart for the story and once I convince her to post it online, I will link it. XD

**Review Responses**

Heart of Diamond: Oh there will be much magic, and much magics!

Aerist: Oh I appreciate reviews no matter where they come from, hun. :) And yus! He is free! Though it might not quite be what you think, lol.

MegamiTenshiHime: :) Thanks!

1983Sarah: Lol. I just imagine I would be creepy.

"Hey... hey you... new chapter... yeeeeeesssssss..."

Emrys Is Merlin & Ivara: Thanks much! That sentence has been in my head for about six chapters now. It's always fun when you finally get to write something that you have had in your ehad for a long time. Glad you liked it as much as I did! *blush*

SpangleyPony: Thank you... I have GOT to ask... is there a story behind the name SpangleyPony, coupled with a lion picture, or are you just that fantastic? XD

Rachelle Lo: Balance is something I strive for in my books; be they fanfics or originals. I love that I seemed to have maintained the balance in this one. Thanks so much!

Curiosity's Principle: As much as I try to force myself to be okay with it, I agree with you on feeling jipped. For me, the thing I wanted to see the most was the fallout of the reveal; what happened after Merlin was discovered. We didn't get that. While the reveal itself was absolutely beautiful, and we got to see Arthur and Merlin having conversations that we have waited SEASONS for, it just wasn't enough. The fifth season seemed just a little mishandled. I love in-depth reviews! Thank you so much! And it makes me blush when people say they prefer my work to season five! XD

Alright, here we go!

* * *

"Merlin?"

The echo of the call was met with silence and for a breath, both High Priestess and King stared into the darkness where the druid girl had vanished.

Morgana was the first to recover when there was no answer, and Arthur felt magic slam into his torso. All the air in his lungs rushed out of him as his back hit the ground. His neck snapped back a little and the king realized that his head was hanging over the outcropping of rock upon which they stood. Before another coherent thought could find its way into his mind, he yelped as Excalibur was magically wrenched from his grip and he watched the silver blade tumble down into the abyss of the cave below him.

Arthur's eyes whipped back around to watch Morgana turn away from him and head into the darkness where Dayla had disappeared, a wicked grin on her face.

"Merlin!" the king shouted, and still there was no response. Had Dayla been wrong about the method by which his servant could be returned to him? If that was the case, how could Merlin's magic be surrounding them so? Barely realizing it, Arthur's solution to the siege on his city was little more than the help of his warlock. And now panic began to take root, fed by the silence that answered his calls.

There was a familiar catch in the back of his mind that the king had written off as gone the moment Merlin was pulled from his mind. Suddenly, the hilt of Excalibur was in his hands again, gleaming happily at the reunion with its master. With little thought to question or wonder, Arthur curled his stomach in and heaved the blade into the air, flying at the dark from of his sister. The sword slid past her side and imbedded itself into the nearby wall. Her trek into the cave halted abruptly. She stared at the sword for a moment before looking back at Arthur, who was quickly back on his feet.

Arthur held a gloved hand out, and the sword responded immediately. It yanked itself free of the rock, sailed easily into his hand and he took up his fighting stance. "I am _not_ helpless without my warlock," he growled.

"You are fooling yourself, dear Brother," shot the witch.

Her gloved hand punched the air, and Arthur's feet left the ground again. The impact of his armor on the stone of the wall behind him echoed loudly in the cave and sent a flurry of sparks into the air. He writhed in the grip of her magic and she smiled at his efforts. Morgana simply flicked her other hand, and Arthur's sword-laden hand slammed into the wall far to his side.

_"Grúnd sé bóg ásælan.(1)_"

Like a pair of blacksmith tongs, the stone behind Arthur's arm opened and clamped over his wrist and hand. He growled at her, staring directly into her black eyes in defiance. A few attempts were made to dislodge the trapped arm, but it didn't budge.

"Touched by the magic of Emrys," she mused, staring hungrily at the blade. "It seems to contain magic of its own even without his presence."

Arthur's free arm did not move as she spoke and stepped toward his trapped hand. His chest swelled in feigned confidence; she would see no fear from him. The way she eyed the ball of rock that encased his hand caused his courage to falter and he had a sense of what she would do just before it became a reality.

Morgana's slender fingers curled into a harsh- knuckled fist and the groan of rock against rock preceded a scream of pain from the King. He could hear and feel his bones break under the stress of the rock until the hilt of Excalibur was squeezed from his mangled hand.

The witch smiled with wicked satisfaction as she retrieved the blade and ran her eyes over it. Again, he felt defiled as another held Excalibur, as though every bit of him rebelled at the thought of the sword in a hand that was not his. His legs wobbled beneath him as his body attempted to cope with the agony radiating from the hand which remained firmly in the jaws of the rock behind him. He cast a glance to the ball of rock that had crushed his fingers, but then gritted his teeth, bit his tongue, and glared at her.

After a leisurely moment of examining the sword, she took it into both hands and fixed him with a honeyed stare. "Tsk tsk," she clucked. She raised the tip of the blade until it rested against the King's cheekbone. "You are ill-suited to magic, Arthur." With a flick of her hands, a shallow gash opened up on Arthur's face. He did his best not to react, but the pleasure in her eyes told him he had at least winced. "You cannot condemn it and also use it. You must be taught that lesson."

Excalibur was pointed at the ceiling of the cave; the blade aimed directly at the king's forehead. Morgana could feel every muscle in her body tense in delight.

She had barely begun her swing when the hilt was ripped from her fingers with a yelp of pain. Again, the blade flipped end over end as it tumbled into the abyss of the cave below him. Morgana watched it fall for a moment before she growled and glared at Arthur.

The smile and gaze of relief aimed over her shoulder made her blood run cold.

She whipped around and scowled.

His entire body leaned heavily on the wall of the cave, but Merlin was upright with one hand extended toward the witch. Magic flowed off of him in waves and filled the air around them. Gold colored his eyes even after his spell had been cast and as he took a breath, the magic around them swelled. Arthur felt both invigorated and nearly suffocated at the same time and from Morgana's deteriorating posture, he had the feeling she was feeing mostly the latter.

The cloud of power around them was a stark contrast to Merlin's appearance. His face was devoid of pallor and he looked thinner than normal. His thin limbs wobbled weakly under his meager weight. His neckerchief and jacket were absent and his large red shirt looked far too big for him.

"Forget about me, did you?" Merlin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"_Hlaep on bæc!"_

Merlin's wavering form vanished back into the darkness of the cave and a cry was heard as his small from crashed against the unyielding rock.

Morgana let a small chuckle escape her lips. "Only a little. You look horrible, Merlin," she said with no small amount of delight in her voice.

Excalibur was in Arthur's left hand in an instant. Driven by nothing more than anger and instincts garnered from a few days of sharing a mind with Merlin, he slammed the blade into the ball of rock that encased his mangled hand. A small burst of magic thrummed through his arm and the rock fell open. He lunged at Morgana, but- the sound of magic breaking rock having alerted her to his movements- she easily side-stepped. Arthur followed his sword through the swing and placed himself firmly between Morgana and his fallen servant, digging his heels in.

His lump of a right hand was used as little more than a bit of support as his left hand struggled to hold the sword correctly. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the fallen warlock and then back to his face.

"Sire!"

The male cry was followed immediately by a screech of pain as a crossbow bolt slammed into Morgana's back, the tip vanishing entirely into her shoulder blade. The bolt was almost instantly expelled and thrown back at the two knights standing on the stairs that lead to the castle. It ricocheted off of a stair and vanished into the cave below them.

"Gwaine! Percival!" cried Arthur, his brows coming to a point. "What are you doing here?!"

The witch grumbled something dark under her breath and turned toward the knights. Gwaine dropped the crossbow and grabbed his sword. Percival bent his knees, waiting for an attack. Morgana huffed and sped toward them, holding out a hand as she moved. With a jerk of her hand, the two knights went sailing forward and onto the ground near the king. By the time they looked up again, the last bits of her black dress were vanishing around the corner and back into the castle.

Gwaine and Percival pulled themselves to their feet and while the Bear knelt at the King's side, Gwaine rushed past them and into the darkness where Merlin had vanished.

"Forget abut me, just go stop her!" commanded the king. "If she finds any of the citizens, she is going to kill them!" he said, shoving Percival away and toward the stairs. The knight considered the command for a moment before nodding and dashing back up the stairs.

"Merlin, you got any spells for pain?" the king called once Percival was gone. He cradled his broken hand gently against his stomach.

"I- Gwaine, don't you dare," growled the servant's voice. There was a bit of weak scuffling and squabbling for a moment before Gwaine emerged from the cave with Merlin laid across his arms bridal style and Dayla trailing his heels.

"What are you doing here?" the king demanded a second time as Merlin squirmed in Gwaine's arms until the knight relented and lowered the warlock to the ground. "You were meant to stay in the physician's quarters and keep Guinevere safe."

"Because I am the good little knight that always does as he is told, eh?" laughed Gwaine. Arthur didn't seem overtly amused by the joke, and Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Even if I hadn't insisted on coming to help you, Leon told us he would run us through if we didn't." After another moment of staring, Gwaine sighed. "Four of Camelot's finest barely _fit_ in the physician's chambers, much less are needed to guard it."

"Arthur, give me your hand."

The king's eyes snapped to the warlock and he shook his head as though ridding it of confusion. "Strange to hear your voice coming out of your mouth." Long bony fingers were outstretched to the king and after a little more prompting, Arthur settled his mangled hand into Merlin's calloused ones.

_"Hwa sy daru ágíeman. Sé bargrún forþsetennes áwendennes. Hwa sy ofhende gelesniss. Hwa sy min geftian.(2)_"

Arthur grunted quietly as his bones shifted and knit back together, gritting his teeth at the sensation that was not painful, but certainly unpleasant. Merlin's golden eyes shone with light for no longer than a moment, and Arthur could freely move his hand.

"The bones are healed, but the pain will be- Arthur!"

Before Merlin could finish his sentence, Arthur had scooped up Excalibur, nodded at his servant and knight, and vanished up the stairs after Morgana and Percival. Merlin gave an exasperated sigh and waved at the king.

"Are you alright, Emrys?" asked a small voice. Dayla appeared at his side and placed her tiny hands on his arm.

"I am now," said Merlin with a smile. He craned his neck to see Bedivere's still form laying against the wall some feet away from them, and not far from him lay Frio. His smile vanished and he looked to Gwaine. "I need your help, but first, you need to send someone down here to get Bedivere to Gaius." Gwaine nodded and dashed away and Merlin turned to Dayla. "Go with them and bring Frio."

It was as though the mention of the name sent a shock through the small girl and tears gathered in her large brown eyes. Like each of her limbs suddenly weighed one hundred pounds, she trudged over to the fallen animal and did her best to gather her into her arms. She folded her crooked wings to her body and with a little heave, straightened and walked back to Merlin, having to dodge Gwaine and two guards as they jogged past her and toward Bedivere. By the time she arrived and dropped to her knees at his side, tears were streaming down her face and collecting on Frio's feathers, her small body wracked with barely controlled sobs.

"It's... it's my fault," she hiccupped, leaning her head down until her forehead rested against Frio's neck. "I asked her to help," she managed before the sobs took hold of her voice.

Merlin felt tears sting his own eyes at the sight of the unmoving bird, but he fought them back and pulled Dayla's head against his shoulder, resting his cheek on her hair. "It's not your fault; Frio is a fighter. I've only known her a few days, but I could sense that she _wanted_ to help us, Dayla." He pulled away as the guards rushed past with Bedivere slung limply between them. "Take her to Gaius and see if he can help her," he said, pressing his forehead to hers before gently ushering her after the jogging guards. She nodded and began trudging up the stairs.

_And if I see you out and about again before this is all over_, he thought into her head, causing her to slow down a little, _I'll turn you into a pigeon__._

A chuckle fought its way past her sobs and he could sense her nod before she vanished back into the citadel.

Merlin looked up at Gwaine who was standing expectantly over him. "Now what, mate?" he asked, stooping to sling one of Merlin's arms over his shoulders and pulling the warlock to his feet. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, feeling how little of his own weight Merlin seemed to be bearing.

"_You_ try not eating or drinking anything for four days," said Merlin as his stomach chose this moment to protest.

"So what do we do? I doubt the cook has anything in," said Gwaine.

Merlin shook his head. "We've wasted too much time already. First I need you to take me to the courtyard."

Gwaine protested, but the two began making their slow way up the stairs anyway. "That place is swarming with Saxons and druids. You're sure that's where you want to go?"

Merlin nodded. "I'm willing to bet that is where Arthur is headed," he said, catching his breath. "And I need to contact Kilgharrah."

The warlock could feel Gwaine tense at the mention of the beast. "Did that horn not work?"

"Seems not," grumbled Merlin as they reached the top of the stairs and began to trudge through the empty hallways.

Panic warred with relief in both knight and sorcerer. There didn't seem to be any citizens left huddled in the corridors, but there were also no bodies. It wasn't until they had fought Merlin's shaking form through one of the servants' passes and out onto one of the few flat areas remaining in the courtyard that they saw any people.

The uprooted stone of the courtyard stood as a tall barrier to their right and it just now occurred to Merlin that Arthur might have to somehow explain away his use of a magical sword. Through the entryways to the market, they could see chaos as Saxons and mercenaries looted the shops and homes of the citizens. Flames from stolen torches were already licking at several roofs and Merlin could see the perpetrator dashing toward another building. With a flick of his hand, the flame extinguished and the man was sent flying.

At the scream of the Saxon, hungry eyes in the courtyard instantly turned to what appeared to be a Knight attempting to rescue a sickly young man. Gwaine released Merlin, drew his sword and dashed into a crowd of battle-ready mercenaries as they yelled at one another about who would receive his head as a trophy.

Gwaine locked swords with one man, and was about to attempt to fend off another when the Saxon was suddenly lifted off his feet and tossed like a rag across the courtyard. The jaw of Gwaine's opponent dropped open a little, and no small amount of terror leaked into his eyes as he stared over Gwaine's shoulder at the warlock behind him.

However wobbly, Merlin had bolstered his legs (with adrenaline or pure willpower, Gwaine wasn't sure) and was now taking shaky steps toward Gwaine's back. His eyes glowed like small flames and though Gwaine had spent days traveling within the cloud of Merlin's magic, it had never felt so dense and overwhelming. Dragon tongue tore from his mouth, an inhuman roar echoing off the stone walls.

"_O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"_

Gwaine had heard the call of a Dragon Lord once before- in the woods where the cry had been muffled first by a sword and then by another's voice- but the pure power and command in the unbridled call could have rivaled the Great Dragon himself. A few brave mercenaries continued their attack on the knight, but every cloaked druid took several steps back at the sound of the Emrys' voice; terror overtook their faces and a few of them even turned away and fled. Though magic was not something that the non-magical part of the invading force immediately recognized it was clear that they felt it. There was hesitance in their swings; furtive glances over Gwaine's shoulder as though Merlin was a wild beast they feared would attack at any moment.

Merlin stared down the group of Saxons that had gathered around Gwaine as though the knight was a barrier between the oppressive power they all felt and them. His mind assaulted him with consistent dizzy spells, but he planted his feet and held himself upright. Merlin noticed a single man to Gwaine's far right separate from the crowd, rush past the knight and make a brave attempt to attack him, and with a single jut of the warlock's chin, the man was thrown back into the crowd of enemies like a sack of grain.

He eyed a few more that looked like they were about to attempt the same thing, but before he could give them another reason not to, he felt Kilgharrah's soul calling out to him as though arms from far away were reaching out and caressing his mind. Linking minds with a dragon was a little like being chained to a jousting horse. The magic that slammed into his head was fast and powerful and it was generally all Merlin could do to keep up (hence why he preferred to call the beast to him).

Images came first. Kilgharrah's great head rose at the sound of the _Héafodwóð _echoing magically across the land. He took flight, the ground and cities below him blurring into nothing but flashes of color at his speed. However, he did not reach the towers of Camelot that loomed in the distance. A burst of white slammed into his side and the screech of a young dragon brought Kilgharrah to a halt. Circling around to his front, Aithusa cried at him and shook her great head back at forth. Attempts to pass her and make his way to Camelot were met with physical blocks and threats, as though the young one would rather harm herself than allow the great golden beast to help the besieged city. Without the voice of Merlin himself, Kilgharrah's instinct to obey even a second sounding of the horn could not outweigh his need to protect his own and so the two mighty dragons had settled into a stalemate, each staring the other down, and their minds filled with the one who held their utmost loyalty.

Mingled amidst the images and sounds, there were feelings and sights that Merlin could hardly interpret. If he looked too hard at one particular vision, it would explode into a plethora of new information, sights, smells, and feelings. He could feel and see Aithusa's bond with the witch; iron clad and filled with a warmth Merlin had long thought Morgana had lost. Ghosts of buildings not yet built and long since demolished flitted across the open expanse around where Kilgharrah could see the towers of Camelot. He could see pure power and magic radiating from the Isle of the Blessed and the Crystal Cave, weaving so completely into the fabric of the world around him that it seemed that nothing could exist without them there.

And then it felt as though he was standing on Kilgharrah's massive head, looking down at the much-smaller white creature. She was not intimidating... not to Kilgharrah anyway, but what she threatened frightened the golden beast to his core. For so long he had believed his species would die with him, but now there was another. And that other was now threatening harm upon herself if he took one step toward his master.

As Merlin cried out in the dragon tongue again, sadness gripped his heart and a few tears escaped his eyes. Dragons were not tame beasts to be bent to his will (though he recognized he was willing to defy this for the sake of his king and kingdom), and so when Aithusa's loyalty had shifted to Morgana, Merlin could do nothing but watch and wonder why. However wrong her loyalties seemed to him, the very act of ordering her to betray those loyalties and stand aside was enough to rend a hole in his heart: he hoped that one day she would forgive him.

_"Oh drakon! Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai! Weas!(3)"_

His magic boiled in the air like water in a pot and as it backed his voice with an inhuman roar, it begged for more. A few brave soldiers continued to try and overwhelm Gwaine, but the bar-fight seasoned knight had little trouble deflecting each one. As Merlin's cry went out, his magic burst like an over-filled water skin and men went flying with every syllable. Gwaine watched each one go with a sense of amusement, awe, and an expanding appreciation for the kind of power his friend possessed.

Adrenaline soared through his blood and magic swirled around him like a twister, but in between them Merlin could feel his body weakening. As his call ended, the magic seemed to tug at his last vestiges of strength and his legs finally buckled under his meager weight. He fell onto his hands and knees, each inhale seeming to pull darkness further around the edges of his vision.

The surrounding groups of enemies seemed bolstered by the warlock's collapse so Gwaine dug his heels in and held his sword up; preparing for a surge of steel and sinew. But after a few tense moments- while the group waited to ensure the warlock was truly incapacitated- he found he need not have worried.

Every upright man in the courtyard (possibly in the city) ducked like arrows were being fired over their heads as a deafening roar cut the air and reverberated off the stone walls. Fire licked the air above their heads and a gale tore between the men. Kilgharrah's massive talons slammed into the stone around Merlin with the sound of thunder, standing protectively over his lord and giving another discouraging roar directly into the faces of the Saxons. The remaining men immediately shed their bravery and fled back toward the large gates of the city.

Though their last meeting had been amicable, the sheer size and power of the beast was enough to make Gwaine desire to avoid him, but he couldn't quash his relief at Kilgharrah's appearance. He shot a rakish smile up at his massive head and gave a bow.

The dragon didn't seem to notice the knight and instead curled his head down toward the fallen Merlin, adjusting the placement of his talons (two of which had to be placed on the uprooted stones in front of the castle entrance). "Are you well, young warlock?" he asked.

Gwaine hustled under the dragon to help Merlin upright. "I'll be fine," he said with a wave. "Your head's a dangerous place for me," he chuckled.

"It is to be expected; you see things in such limited ways," remarked the dragon.

"Can you see Arthur?" called Gwaine, craning his neck to see Kilgharrah's golden eyes.

The beast raised his head and scanned the city, placing his front two talons on the battlements to get a better view. "The Bear has been stopped by a group of Saxons during his pursuit of the witch, allowing Arthur to continue his chase." He looked back to Gwaine, who had slung one of Merlin's arms across his shoulders. "Morgana is heading toward the Eastern Tower," he said, lowering himself back to the uneven ground. "I sense powerful magic there; so must she."

"The gem of Taliesin," growled Merlin. "We have to hurry." He looked up to Kilgharrah. "Stay here and just..." His clouded mind groped for words. "Just look menacing. The best story we have for your presence is a spell meant to incite panic."

Kilgharrah chuckled, nodded, turned his face skyward, and let out an ear-shattering roar and a jet of fire. Merlin nodded his approval and urged Gwaine toward the eastern exit to the market. With a simple wave of the warlock's hand, the stones blocking it off sunk back into their normal places and they hurried through.

The markets and houses were mildly upturned from looting, but all seemed abandoned. It was eerie, seeing the city so empty, but encouraging at the same time; it seemed that few had remained in the city after the appearance of Kilgharrah.

And now Merlin hunted for the witch.

* * *

1. Earth bind the limb.

2. Heal what is hurt. Change the fate's design. Save what is lost. Bring back what is mine. (Snrk snrk... Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!)

3. I use the Merlin wiki for the spells that I take from the show, but because the Dragonlord spells are in Homeric Greek, this particular spell has not been fully translated yet. My sister and I actually took Ancient Greek in high school (by pure coincidence lol) and we have been working on translating this, but the closest that wiki has is along the lines of "Now you yourself must obey and go... elsewhere?"

My sister drew me some fanfiction whilst proofreading this chapter! Check it out! Her deviantart name is omnisession, and the picture's name is 'Carry the Fallen'. Couldn't get the link to work. x.x


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